CODE: Kronos
by Vickie1
Summary: It came in the email. By who? Unknown. But what she got is more important-a cry for help, leading Claire Redfield and three allies to a tropical island hidden from the world thanks to HELIX. What they discover is not only a virus that outmatches any other in history but also an 11-year-old lie and a friend she thought was dead... It's a race against the clock to save lives.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

**RESIDENT EVIL**

**CODE: Kronos**

By Vickie1

* * *

><p><em>Summary: It came in the email. By who? Unknown. But what she got is more important-a cry for help, leading Claire Redfield and three allies to a tropical island hidden from the world thanks to the power and money of HELIX Foundations. What they discover is not only the outbreak of a virus that outmatches any other in history but also an 11-year-old lie and a friend she thought was dead... It's a race against the clock to save 8,000 lives and more in this game of chess.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

* * *

><p><em>"Intelligence is the ability to adapt to change." ― Stephen Hawking<em>

* * *

><p><em>28 May 2006, 7:58 P.M.<br>__? ? ?_

_Tap, click, tap, tap, tap!_

Access ({  
>hostname: 'localhost',<br>user id: '********',  
>password: '******',<br>database: 'internet access'  
>}).connect(function(web network))<br>({public string security firewall = 'offline';  
>private string network firewall = 'offline';<br>private string HELIX protection = 'offline';  
>}).run(function(bogus virus))<br>(run(function(anti-hacking alert))  
>}).initiate Anónimo program;<p>

_Click!_

THE DARKNESS IN THE CYBERSPACE lit up like a Christmas tree. The realm around him shifted and twisted to make data into blue-lined 'physical' blocks. It was alive, forming the way he could interact – move freely just as anyone would in reality.

Minus the boundaries.

"Ok... Just need to get pass security and find the address."

It was still an open void but he could see the marker. Estimated 125 kilometres away. Every footstep he took sent ripples through the grid lines.

Crossing the ocean was easy. But that was only if he didn't trigger any alarms.

_Calm down. You've done this many times. Just a simple delivery.  
><em>

He was smart but he was also scared. He pulled out all the safety measures he had. All the tricks he'd mastered over the years. One wrong move and it would take seconds for the hot shots to find him in his bedroom back home.

The world ahead of him rose up with towering rectangles. The ripples below his feet crippled into soundwaves as he entered a coastal city.

Ok, he was out of HELIX's grounds.

"Anti-hacking software detected."

_Ah, hell.  
><em>

He was expecting to be hounded even outside the island's network. Just not this early before he could execute another bogus virus to lead them astray. 'Anónimo' was a wanted man by every government agency out there.

"Anónimo, how many?" he asked.

"Five. 2 and 3 o'clock."

He found himself in a crossroad with two forks intersecting into it. In the distance, he could make out the slow, low-intelligent formless AIs swarming after him in the empty matrix world. The 'white-blood cells' of the internet's protection.

Sloppy programming. Made the attackers look like zombies.

"Too old school."

_BANG! BANG!_

His years of playing shooting games were paying off.

He ducked into the right fork after clearing it out, the marker ahead of him in sight. It was still a long way – probably would take thirty minutes on foot, straight line.

He didn't have thirty minutes. He was down to six out of a fifteen-minute window.

"Whoa!"

A giant red holographic barrier fell before him, blocking his way down the main street. A firewall.

And lovely. It was from DOD.

"Dammit!" He slammed a fist at the virtual wall. "Anónimo, I need a route to the nearest transport server. Hurry!"

The marker's location changed in a blink. Northwest, through downtown.

_Huh. Kind of empty-  
><em>

"Twelve in approach."

_Nevermind._

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"Gah!" he yelped, foreign arms wrapped tight around his neck from the back. "Get off me, you carallo!"

With a strong swing, he elbowed his surprise attacker. He kept on moving, sending glimpses at the spilling data coming out from a scratch in his upper arm.

Just a flesh wound. He could patch it up later. Luckily, it wasn't severe but that didn't mean he couldn't be less careful. Unlike his games, attackers tearing his avatar apart wouldn't mean a game over.

If he 'dies' in cyberspace, they'd be getting a free pass to his IP address in demi-seconds.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

He cleared his path and in two minutes, he found his next point of interest and raced up a set of stairs.

"When's the next train leaving for Weston?"

"40 seconds."

"Great."

He kicked it into high-gear, save the ammo for later. The only good prompt about being in cyberspace was he could easily hopscotch over the gates without a ticket or guards.

His form of transportation began to leave.

"Time for some distraction," he huffed and scooped out a neon blue cube from his inventory. With a toss, the cube metamorphosed into an identical avatar. "AI dummy to Clear Rapids."

With a mind of its own, the second avatar headed to a second aisle while he leapt onto the long three-dimensional train. Before he shut the back door behind him, he peeked out to see the attackers climbing onto the second train.

He smirked. This made the fourth time DOD fell for that trick.

"Ok. Might as well enjoy the ride for a bit."

No matter where in the net, there would always be connections. The train he was on was choked with all sorts of folks leaving for home while they thumbed away on their smartphones to kill the boredom. The structures of virtual world were closely similar from then that of the real world. After all, the world was what made the net.

Moving through the compartments, he searched for something to patch up the hole in his arm – spotted a little virtual green plant of thin sticks and with a slap of it onto the arm, it instantly refilled the gap.

Good as new.

"Arriving in Weston."

What would have been two hours on a long-distance passenger transit between states in real life was about a small faction through the network's channels.

He hopped out the train. "Ok, next point."

The marker updated itself, the spinning abstract arrow a stadium-length away from where he stood. He ran.

A dying whistling sound entered his ears. Instinct took him to halt as the blocks before him dismantled and fell down through a bottomless pit. The streaming blue lines zooming into the once structured region ended before the dark ditch.

"Proxy servers shut down in west district."

"Well. They pulled out a blackout. Anónimo, alternative route."

The marker updated again. "Fourteen in proximity."

"Guess DOD's throwing everything at me this year."

Six minutes left. Time to brute-force it.

Attackers swarmed into the street he darted into. Five shots were fired and he quickly switched to his melee weapon. Whacked one down to the ground, he then smashed the AI's head with his foot. Data scattered and the body of information dematerialised.

"Twenty coming your way."

He glanced up. Halfway to his destination.

Five minutes left.

_I can't stop now!_

He kept going, scooped another three dummy cubes and tossed them to the floor. They'd have to be his troops. His clones swung out their own virtual firearms and fired at the overwhelming packs. But he knew it wouldn't be enough. More and more would keep on coming.

Unless DOD had a higher priority than him.

"Anónimo, send two dummies to their building server and hack in."

He watched the two hijack onto a bus transit link down one lane to another nearby city while the third one followed his lead. The horde was splitting up, the numbers relentlessly growing twice as faster as before and with more red roadblocks falling from the infinite sky.

His guess; another player, just as skilled as him, hired by DOD to catch people like him in cyberspace.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Four minutes. 25 kilometres away from the point

"DOD server hacked in. Power offline."

He and his partner had entered into an office building to escape the attackers. Through the clear windows, the blue lines of one single building sitting on the other side of the realm completely shut down, pitching away into the cyber world's darkness. With the shutdown of DOD's computer network, the dazed savage AIs fell onto their knees with the light in their eyes and their contour lines dying out. Dropping through the ground and into nothingness.

Thirty seconds of panic and darkness in the Pentagon.

It was smooth sailing from here on out but he still had to beat the clock. Another second of delay and he'd have no choice but to cut off his operation.

Back down to the first floor. He jumped through the glass. The other dummy followed without question. Both dove down a 50-storey building without fear. Without consequence. Both avatars landed on the virtual floor like superheroes surviving a freefall that far with no broken legs. Further from there, he and his AI friend jumped onto an internal bus network.

By the time the thirty seconds were up in the Pentagon, he had dropped off at his destination. From what he had gathered about the place before he started, it was a nice suburban neighbourhood within the street of tightly knitted apartments. Close to the nearest train station, a good school, low crime. Nothing fantastic.

He swiped his fingers at his AI friend, his touch converting it back into its cubic form and slotting it back into his inventory. "Traffic security footage."

The cyberspace shifted again, textures of brick, stone and grass simmering across the blackness. Lampposts and car lights lit up the one-way street. Although it should be past dinnertime now, there were a few people manifesting inside the cyber world– laughing, talking, enjoying the cold starry night in their real world. A couple walked right into him but he was a ghost, easily phrasing through their bodies of data.

Three minutes.

A SUV drove down the street, catching his eyes. A father, a mother and two kids.

His pace slowed down as his eyes followed the happy family driving by. Maybe coming from a dinner, he guessed. And later on, would be doing some get-together activity at their home before the kids went to bed.

Truthfully, he had a hint of jealousy...

He shook his head. _Focus._ And turned his attention to one of the apartments.

One wave of the hand and a small window interface blinked before him.

He checked it. The envelope icon flashed on the interface.

_Ok...just a drop, a check, then out._

Smaller blue lines with circled ends glided into the building. At the side of the entrance, he touched them and in response, names appeared. Names of owners with their personal IP addresses inside the apartment.

One finger ran down the list.

"There."

It ended at _Claire Redfield_.

"Let's hope she's at home," he said and phrased right into the building.

He had heard the name but never met this person before. He had been told about her but not a lot. And no doubt once he sent in the message, Miss Redfield would be calling the government that her computer was hacked in by...him. However, he was the messenger today. Delivering something big and something important. Only to her and her alone. No one, not the FBI. Not the CIA or the BSAA. Nobody but her.

He wasn't sure why her. All he was told was that Redfield _needed_ to have this email.

At all cost.

* * *

><p><strong>Game Objections:<strong>

-Follow the marker

* * *

><p>Vickie: Hello everyone and welcome to the prologue of my new fanfic. Actually, this would be considered a revamped idea of an old RE fic I did long ago.<p>

Come to think of it, I've been revamping my ideas a lot now and then.

Anyway, it's a complete revamp. What's more, because I've had study in game design, I'm writing this story like...it's a game to you. You can instantly imagine the prologue being your tutorial round through like any Resident Evil games, learning the basics and all. I'm very much hoping that this will not only be better than my original (now dead) idea but also that with me thinking of the plot like it's a video game, you're not only feel engrossed to it like it's a fanfic but also a game too.

However, this idea, I can see it as a big one for me to write alone. Even the next chapter, I know I'm gonna be struggling because I'm not that well-invested in Resident Evil. I do like some of the games but the lore, I'm not too sure here and there. Even on information, details bout characters, etc that ended in 1998 in the RE universe and never much continued on in the latest games.

So if you guys are really interested after the prologue, then I'd like to ask your help. I've already made a help forum post that I will often return to ask questions – at least to understand better of Resident Evil stuff and even real world stuff. Even brainstorm on backstories of existing characters that stopped at 1998.

You can help out here: www. fanfiction topic/5553/122610093/1/Resident-Evil-Kronos-Help-Post [just take out the spaces]

I really hope for your help and I will be thankful. This idea, I really want to write it just as much as I write any game document, but more of a story to you. But I know, I can't do it alone without info and your help.

Thank you again and I hope you enjoy the prologue for the time being. I don't know how long this will take me but I look forward to writing it. :) Please r'n'r!

P.S. I really hate the formatting the doc manager has. I had written the prologue very nicely, with paragraph spaces too. :/

Cover designed by me. :) Hope you like it too.


	2. Chapter One: SOS

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: S.O.S.<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Life is strong and fragile. It's a paradox. ~ Joan Jett<em>

* * *

><p><em>28 May 2006, 8:04 P.M.<em>

_Weston City, U.S.A._

RAIN.

The mighty little bullets tapped against the window like an annoying beat. Millions upon millions of wiggling shadows cast into the dim apartment, only lit by the shimmering blotches of lampposts outside and the orange numbers of 8:04 P.M. on a digital clock inside.

Everything was still.

The turning of the number '4' to '5' clicked in near fateful sync with the soft opening and the loud shutting of the front door.

_BANG!_

Stomp, stomp, stomp went the young twenty-seven-year-old woman as she pitched her keys and bag away in a fit of frustration. Her fingers combed through her brown hair, pacing back and forth.

The words still stung in her head.

***/*/*/***

_"You wanted to see me, Sir?"_

_ A disappointed sigh. "Redfield, we need to talk."_

_***/*/*/***_

It was this afternoon. Called to come to the director's office. She didn't expect it to go down that way – then again, she rarely ever had a reason to visit him. She had a perfect record, followed protocol like a priest to a bible. The director himself praised her for handling the Harvardville incident last year. Nothing to raise a red flag.

No. There was one little thing.

And Claire Redfield was found out.

***/*/*/***

_"Sure, Sir." Claire managed the most brightly casual smile she could give. In retrospect, it might have been a bad decision. "What did you want to– "_

_ "Redfield, I'll cut to the chase. I've had reports that you've been making frequent requests to Infodiv."_

_It was a reflex she absentmindedly did. Her body tensed and she bit her lip. The director could clearly see it and his notion was correct. Likewise, Claire could see he wished it wasn't._

_ "Why?"_

_ She tried to relax. _

_ "I was looking up on an old case. Double-checking is all."_

_ "Really? Well, I've checked too and you're not working on any cases that need the information division at Quantico."_

_ Again, the twitch in her body. This time, she couldn't walk out of it._

_ "Redfield, tell me the truth. You're working on this under the covers. Why?"_

_***/*/*/***_

It was a rookie mistake. She should have been more careful. But she was getting desperate.

A single rumour that surfaced three months ago and she discovered it through the backwaters. It rekindled a very old hope she had long ago. A hope she had moved on years ago. But the more she dug to find out its legitimacy, the more she was finding dead ends.

Each cul-de-sac was killing that renewed hope, and thus pushing her frantic attempt to keep on looking. Finding. Any clue to lead her closer to the rumor.

***/*/*/***

_Claire slugged her shoulders. She couldn't lie. Not to the director. Not an associate. _

_ Hopkins didn't like how far off the handle she went once she said the truth._

_ His voice grew angry. "Claire, you gave the techs wrong information to confirm a claim. For personal gain. Do you know how much red tape you've broken? How badly this could affect your reputation?"_

_ "Sir, let me explain!"_

_ "Enough!" It was a strong shout that shook through her. She had overstepped her boundary._

_ The director calmed down in his seat but his authority-filled eyes stayed dead set on her. _

"_As of this moment, you're suspended without pay. Two weeks."_

_ She couldn't believe her ears. Suspension!?_

"_But, sir-!"_

"_Claire, it's been a rough year. You should take this as a vacation," the director stated both firmly and concernedly. "I mean it."_

_***/*/*/***_

She had tried to persist but the director had put down his foot, whether she liked it or not.

***/*/*/***

_ The director could easily read the soured expression on her face, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. He knew her well enough, one of his best employees._

_ "Claire. I know why you broke the rules this one time... But you have to stop chasing a ghost."_

_***/*/*/***_

And that was the end. She bolted out of the office silently, out of TerraSave HQ and drove back to her little apartment in Weston.

There was nowhere else to go. Just...home.

In the cold living room filled with dribbling shadows.

Claire heaved a very tired sigh. It had been a very long time since she had lost her cool. She dropped onto the stuffy sofa and let the metrical tapping of rain ring through her ears.

_Well, it could have been worse. I could have been fired..._

Claire rolled her head to the digital clock. Should she call? It wouldn't do good to add more worry to Chris, especially at this hour. She was a big girl, she could handle this suspension like a mature woman.

From the last email she got, her brother was being stationed in Afghanistan for a while to investigate another possible bioterrorist group. A lot of tension brewing between the USA and Iraq was making things difficult.

It couldn't be helped.

With the suspicion of bioterrorism tied to the Rasuls in the Middle East and the USA's BSAA stepping on Muslim soil, it was putting more needles into the people over there. Stringing them up to attack America in their land with guns and tanks.

Might have been the bioterrorist's plan. Stir up a religious conflict among the people to slow the BSAA down long enough to launch their counterattacks at the side; infecting everyone, even citizens, insurgencies and the Afghan governments.

TerraSave had decided to help out as much as they can, sending members to help the citizens.

Yup...TerraSave members were working. And she was not.

"...Hopkins was right," she mumbled to herself. "All I'm looking for is a ghost."

Claire inhaled and buckled up. Two weeks. What could she do for two weeks?

She looked around her apartment. How sad. Ever since she moved to Weston, she hadn't done much to it – much of her things were still in boxes by the closet. It was still a reasonably nice home. Claire had a few ideas of what she wanted to do when she got herself her own house but since joining TerraSave, she had never much put effort into them.

It was laughable. Claire only came home on weekends. And those were very few times. What classified as 'home' was pretty much TerraSave HQ.

She didn't even have a hobby to look forward to when coming home. Sometimes reading but alas, it would always be work. Not for pleasure.

_Two weeks..._

Maybe she should arrange her apartment. Just to look like a better excuse of a home. Maybe even owe a little dog to keep her company. One that didn't shed. And didn't bark a lot.

Or a fish, considering how often she had to go to work and cross states.

No, she might accidentally starve it to death during one of her trips.

That was when she spied her lonely laptop, charging on the kitchen counter.

She had nothing else to do now. Might as well check emails and have dinner. Sleep early too. She could figure out what she could do tomorrow.

Off the sofa and into the kitchen, Claire switched on the laptop and headed to the fridge. Mostly empty, like her apartment. Luckily, she found a TV dinner.

Expired? She checked. Just last week. She couldn't complain.

Three minutes entered into the microwave and she strolled back to the laptop with the only soda can in hand. Hit a few keys and she was in.

She took a sip.

"Ugh!" She cringed. She hadn't expected the piercing, fermented taste of rust.

First emails that caught her eyes were from her co-workers over at Iraq. She opened them and read line after line. It was tough – no news yet of any viral outbreak but there had been a few outbursts. Attached were several photos: of TerraSave members, smiling rescued Iran orphans, and Muslim helpers working together with distribution of food, clothing, blankets and medicine.

A brighter side of the war.

No email from her brother. Expected. But she wasn't too worried. She still kept tags on the BSAA, even had gotten Jill to send a message if ever he went missing.

Well, he did once. Two years ago. But from what Claire had heard, the situation was handled and Chris came back alive.

Her lips stretched happily, seeing Sherry's protected email. From the contents she read, it seemed like the young woman was doing well this month and last month. The smile turned downwards upon reading further down the long email.

Even if Sherry kept her best to hide it in her email, Claire could easily read between the lines. The nightmares were still there. Not worse than before but not gone. Claire could relate. The only difference was a child had been struggling against the trauma for eight years.

Note, she should go visit Sherry tomorrow. Sherry was one of the reasons why she moved to Weston.

There was one email that she discovered as...unusual.

It was the first one at the top. She had just gotten it, her laptop giving a beep at its arrival. Moreover, she didn't recognise the address.

Actually, she didn't even recognise the email service. Was it a new one?

Only the title, "**Important. Please Read**".

Anyone would instantly say it was spam. Well, the title didn't seem to say some outrageous deal. Actually, this email didn't even get listed into the spam box in the first place.

It wasn't a TerraSave address. It wasn't from an old friend or family.

Her gut feeling was pricking at her. An anonymous, serious email in her laptop...

_Just a peek. _

She sighed.

_Great._

A jumble of symbols and large caps filled the email.

_You send me an encrypted email when I don't even know you._

She deleted it.

_Ding!_

Good, she was getting hungry. Up she went and opened the microwave. Carefully with a few "Ah! Ah!" and some blows, she cupped the TV dinner.

_Season three of Downfall was five months ago. Wonder if it's still going..._

_Beep beep beep!_ went her laptop. And it wasn't a good sound.

Her eyes widened at the screen and in a fit of panic, her fingers dropped the tray and darted to the keyboard. Didn't matter if the sauces splattered across the counter.

"No! No, no, no, no, no! NO!" she yelled but regardless of how hard she hit the keys, the problem wouldn't go away.

The screen was flashing red alerts and static. Her firewall had been breached. Did the email have a Trojan horse?

First the suspension, and now a computer _**virus**_ in the latest model provided by TerraSave!

"Dammit, this can't be happening!" She fisted the table.

Then, it stopped.

A software window suddenly opened, taking over the screen. It looked like a video feed and yet it wasn't, decorated with blue and white numbers and letters on a black background.

Someone stared back at her. But not a human's face.

Half black and half white, meeting right down the center. Like a full masquerade face mask of a joker with neither a smile nor a frown. The rest of the black body, only up to the shoulders on screen, was visually formed by lines of binaries and matrices.

Its hollowed eyes, empty of any emotion, were directed at hers.

Its voided mouth moved.

"_Read the email._"

The robotic, stiff voice came from the speakers. Claire froze on the spot, unsure what to make of this.

"_Please read it._"

Then the window closed. The 'person' was gone. The screen became normal. Like the virus was never there to begin with.

Her email, however, was different. At the top of the list, the encrypted email was back and opened up on its own. A password was keyed in without her even touching the keyboard and at command, the cryptic symbols shifted and morphed into plain English.

It was as if her computer got possessed. Did she get hacked? Claire had never heard of such a hacking tool like what she had seen before her very eyes, not even from the techs at Infodiv. Moreover, that 'person', whatever it was, knew. She had deleted the email and 'it' wanted her to read it.

Warily and slowly, she sat down and took a closer look. The large cramped paragraphs were now simple one-sentences with attachments.

One audio. Several files. Two jpegs. But there was one common phrase.

Cape Inacio.

She opened another window and typed the location. Zero results.

The name didn't exist in the Internet.

Claire opened the files first and her laptop was flooded with documents of all sorts, all tagged with a familiar company logo. Two identical hexagon-shaped spaces – one on top of the other with lines forming an X, at the end of four bold golden letters.

HELIX Foundations.

A powerful conglomerate, rival with TRICELL head to head for the lead in the industry and also prominent in the Federation of Pharmaceutical Companies. Particularly a common name across the globe, more well-known than TRICELL – provider of more than a third of the world's diversified pharmaceuticals, innovator of medical and prosthetic inventions that have benefited hospitals, investigation units, every healthcare organization over the last three decades, idealist of the medical world– the list just went on. The most recent news was HELIX coming close to dwelling into neural networks, artificial intelligence and neuroprosthetics to advance the medical science.

They triumphed continuously over TRICELL in front of the media. Their squeaky clean reputation was more influential than the indicted and destroyed Umbrella. Their work has saved millions...

So...what was the link to these documents?

First thing to catch her eyes was an electronic map of a small tropical island, roughly an area of 300 km with unfamiliar landmarks. Titled _**Cape Inacio**_.

Second thing was a zoomed in picture of crudely-distorted organism agents.

"Oh no," she groaned. "Not another one."

The biological structures – they were a dead giveaway.

A virus.

What it was and what it was capable of? The other documents had nothing – only numbers and statements that linked between HELIX and Cape Inacio. Unusual statements and numbers. One was a suspicious document depicting the medical transfers of injured or sick prisoners from US prisons to HELIX's medical centers. The many times Claire and others had survived through in the past, she had a hunch it was no doubt deadly.

What was HELIX planning? No, a more pressing question came to mind – why was she given this?

She opened the audio.

Nothing but static in the first few seconds. She was expecting some sort of explanation about this new virus to come out.

There were some sounds. Shuffling. Breathing. Like someone was having difficulty to speak.

"Ahem..." A voice of a woman, tinted with a strange mixed accent, was cleared with a couple of nervous coughs. Then a sigh. "My name is Iria McLenlan. Head Director of Theseus Research Facility..."

Silence for two seconds.

"...Screw formality," the voice whispered. Her tone surprisingly changed from the unsteady seriousness to scared casualness. "I'll cut it short. At the end of this month, a virus named the Kronos Virus will be finished. But an outbreak on the world is...the least of anyone's concern...  
>Over 8,000 people live on Cape Inacio, exactly where the virus is being developed. Out of that, 3,682 employees have been working in this facility; scientists, security, staff, doctors. All because we were told that if we didn't cooperate...the rest would be killed or be used for experiments. Men, women and children... Additionally, 1,280 prisoners are brought here to the facility...making 9,280 people in total. "<p>

She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"You can imagine where I am going with this... Once HELIX gets their hands on the completed virus, all employees, all residents on this island...will be expendable. There is no way of contacting the outside without triggering HELIX's security. How this information got to you is thanks to...someone with very good computer skills."

There had been a pause. From what she heard, the woman had some connection to whoever sent the email.

"I'm not going to give those bastards the pleasure of killing us off. I've already made a plan of how we can get off the island before that happens. All of us," the voice enforced the last sentence. "But I'm also afraid. So I need to make a backup plan. You're my backup plan."

Claire wasn't too sure about feeling 'obliged' to be backup. What could she do?

"You have evidence. GPS coordinates to the island. As much information as I could skimp for you. I want you to get whatever help possible. Rescue teams, ships, anything that can rescue everyone. Anything before the deadline. In case...in case, the original plan fails and there's no one else to save our families."

One hand cupped to her mouth. Her shoulders were feeling dramatically heavy from the responsibility she was being given.

"And...if 8,000 people isn't a good enough reason...then I can give you another, Claire Redfield."

Claire was surprised. _How did she–_

"Steve Burnside is alive."

Her heart stopped.

"That's how I know about you. He told me."

_ No... No. That's a lie._

_ Steve is dead. He died years ago._

"...I've seen the surveillance videos from Rockfort Island and Antarctica. I know what happened there."

_Shut up! This is just a trick!_

It was as if Claire was being pried, boiling her from the inside.

_If you saw it, then you should have already seen his death! That doesn't mean you know him!_

The woman in the audio didn't seem to cease this trickery, her tired voice droning. "I know. Hard to believe. The virus, people kept against their own will, and now this... I don't blame you." Pause. "Red hair. Green eyes. Bit of a hothead but a bright kid. If he doesn't leap before he thinks. Has to prove a point that he doesn't need to rely on others, can handle things himself. But he has a good heart, knows who to trust, knows which back to look out. Has quite an appetite too." The voice giggled but it sadly died. "And...if that kiddo hadn't come to this island...I think I wouldn't have been making these plans in the first place... I owe a lot to that kid. A lot of people owe him, just for being here."

Claire's temper settled. It was too convincing. As if this person knew him, more than she did...and yet, the woman sounded in debt.

No, more like a guardian.

...How long did the woman know Steve?

"Steve trusts you. That's enough for me to trust you. I don't know anyone else outside that can help us. So I chose you... And...if you choose to come just for him, I'm fine with that. He deserves getting out of here too and...it's a better reason than helping out strangers."

Again, a pause. Longer.

The woman was struggling. Trying to keep her cool as best as she could.

"Miss Redfield...I don't care about the virus or my reputation. I don't care much about those corporate dogs paying me and threatening me to be their obedient pet. I don't give a damn of what happens to me." Claire could have sworn...she heard soft crying. Anger. "I just want...everyone away from this island... None of us wanted to drag our families and friends down with us. They had nothing to do with bio-weaponry. They're just innocents!"

Heavy breaths. A few quick sniffles and another second of silence to regain back broken self-control.

"Please...help us."

The plea was desperate.

This couldn't be an act.

"I wish I was meeting you in person instead of through an audio file. Under better circumstances. But...I don't think I'll live long enough for that..."

Claire's gut feeling pinched again. This was a director. Which meant she broke through a lot of tape to get the message to her.

Which meant the woman may have already paid the price by the time Claire got the email.

"I want to say...thank you. For listening to this and whatever you do next."

The voice was muffled by tears but the owner held back her composure as firm as she could.

"'There is not a wise man without fault. We all have got our weaknesses,'" she heard the voice quoted. "...Something my father once told me..."

The audio ended another few seconds later.

Claire stared into the screen, painted with the continuous dancing shadows. She thought long and hard. Had it been eight years ago, she would have jumped the gun. Didn't matter the consequences but she'd have gone to the island at the mere mention of Steve.

She was wiser now. Part of her said this didn't prove that Steve was alive. But the TerraSave side pointed out lives were at stake. Not just supposedly people on the island but also the world if the virus got out. What was more, this woman in the audio passed a heavy baton to her– the responsibility of thousands of lives on a single island.

The rest wanted to be hopeful.

There was one more attachment. The second picture. She opened it.

There...that was enough proof.

"Steve..."

It was a cropped-out picture, perhaps from a photograph of a small group standing in front of the camera. And there he was in the photo, smiling. Alive. And hadn't changed much since the last time she saw him...

Standing with that familiar smirk was the green-eyed young man she remembered eight years ago.

Her eyes watered. Just a bit. It was too early to be crying.

But she still had a dilemma.

As a TerraSave member, she should be contacting HQ and showing them the evidence she had. Get as much manpower as possible. Contact the navy, BSAA, every hands on deck to get together for a large-scale operation.

The only problem was that she was suspended. Once she gave the information to TerraSave, she would be told to go back to her apartment. What made this worse was...

"Too personal. Hopkins would say that..."

No way would Director Hopkins let her in. Another matter was that it may be too late by the time TerraSave gathered everything and reached the island. If what the voice said was true, HELIX would get their virus and destroy every piece of evidence linking between the company and the development.

Including over 9,000 lives...

End of this month..that was days away. Too short a timeframe.

However...Claire Redfield was suspended.

She was free to do whatever she wanted.

Claire scooped out her smartphone and connected it to her laptop via the model's own USB port. Quickly, whiles copies were being made, she skimmed through a shipping document and did a little research on the side.

An island of people needed resources. Resources needed to be shipped somehow.

And she found her means of transportation through her research.

She glanced at the clock. "Eight hours. I can make it."

Her phone went beep and she unhooked the port out. She flipped it open and dialled the numbers as she forwarded the email to TerraSave.

It'd only be until morning before anyone would read it but by then, Claire would have been long gone.

The line clicked in her ears. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Claire." She shut her laptop and fished out her spare handgun from the drawer. Travel light.

"Oh, hey, Claire! What's up–"

"I need your help. How fast can you get to El Delmor?"

The other end was surprised. "Wait, at this hour? Why-"

"I'll explain to you when I get there. Bring your gun too."

"What? What's going on? What happened? Why-?"

"It's going to happen again. Like Rockfort."

That got the attention. "Another virus?"

"Yes. And soon."

"Then we should be contacting BSAA-"

"There won't be any time!" she uttered as she grabbed whatever she thought could be important into her bag. "By the time TerraSave and BSAA rally everyone on this, it'd be too late!"

"Shouldn't you be telling this to Chris or Jill-?"

"You know as well as I do. They're still in Iraq. Rebecca," Claire croaked. "I have nobody to turn to. Please."

The voice hesitated.

It would be suicide to go alone. Claire had too many experiences doing that before, having searched for her brother when Raccoon City fell. She was better than that now and needed someone who could back her if she was going to go back into Hell.

She could have called Leon. She could have called Chris. Jill. Heck, maybe Barry. Her friends from TerraSave.

The last time she heard about Leon, he had gone on another assignment the year – this time with his division partnered with a division in the Navy. And Barry was retired from the life of fighting against biological warfare since the Raccoon incident, spending more time with his family. Most of her TerraSave friends were in Iraq.

Rebecca became her last choice.

"Please..."

"...This is important to you."

"More than you think."

The silence told her Rebecca was thinking. Hard. If she chose to come, she'd be reliving the nightmares too.

It was unfair. Although Rebecca had joined BSAA, invited by Chris to the cause, she was mostly in Research and Development within the American branch. Few times, she had to draw out her firearm. But the life she was in under BSAA had been a peaceful and quiet one.

"I know a friend with a plane."

Claire had been holding back her breath during the duration Rebecca was thinking. "Thank you."

"Hey, what are friends for?"

The two women didn't exchange goodbyes but they acknowledged this was the end of the call.

_ McLenlan, I'm not going to just save Steve._

Claire flipped her smartphone shut and hurtled to the door.

_I'm going to save all of you._

The door slammed behind her.

Time for a little vacation.

* * *

><p><em>8:13 P.M.<em>

_Cape Inacio, Atlantic Ocean_

_Click, tap, tap, click!_

He checked. Double-checked. Triple-checked.

Didn't seem like the island's security had found him. The bogus virus he sent out should have distracted them long enough until his avatar got out of the wide world's cyberspace.

Inside the heavily protection of the island's network, it was another story.

He had no choice but to drop out after he 'talked' to Miss Redfield. Urged her to read the email. He went beyond his fifteen-minute window and had to close off his connection between him and her. He wasn't sure what happened after that.

He hoped she had read it. Because after he opened the email for her, he too got a glimpse at the attachments.

His curiosity got the better of him. He never opened to see what the contents were so it was a surprise to him that he was sending these documents to Miss Redfield.

After his disconnection, he read some of the files. He had yet to listen to the audio file. But the documents were strange– documents he had never seen before when he hacked once into HELIX's mainframe in their American main building. What he had in his computer was a paper trail between the island and the company.

He wanted to find out more, which meant hacking through the firewalls and security. Again.

_Whatever you do, do not let HELIX catch you._

She had warned him in the hidden cipher. He hadn't seen her for almost a year. He would only get a daily message from her on his smartphone since the day he was told by her colleagues that she needed to stay at work after they've made some breakthrough.

The warning was...uncanny. And this time, it was a cipher. Like how they used to play years ago...

If he had to guess, HELIX was doing something bad. Maybe like what he discovered from hacking into TRICELL's database and looking up articles about Umbrella.

Did that mean...she was in danger? Were they all in danger?

_Calm down. Don't get ahead of yourself,_ he told himself.

He decided. Risk a second breakout.

He opened up the program again. He could run a few heuristic data crawlers–

_Knock, knock!_

He froze, tense fingers above the keys. It came from the front door. He heard it click and swing open.

_No... He made sure he wouldn't be found..._

"Hey, Randy. You home?"

He relaxed but hastily shut off the old, outdated laptop and carefully hid it under the floorboards of his bedroom. He quickly hurried out and met his red-haired visitor at the hallway. "Heya!"

"Whoa, what's with the fire?" His tall friend casually smirked. "What'd you been up to?"

"Oh, you know." He glanced back to his bedroom door. "Just checking emails. Got a couple of spam."

His friend frowned understandably. "Yeah, real annoying. Most of my inbox were cramped with coupons and enlargement pi– uh, ahem, I mean weird stuff."

"You're free today?" Randy rolled around, trying to purposely draw his friend away from the door.

"Yeah. Work ended early. So we can continue on with that mission. I'm ready if you are."

"Cool! Oh, I managed to unlock a new weapon too yesterday!" He tried his best not to fake his enthusiasm. Then again, he was very excited to tell him that. "The special M15 rifle!"

Green eyes bugged wide. "Get out!" His friend watched him nod. "How did you get that?"

"Wasn't too hard. Found a few Easter eggs that led me to it. I can show you for your avatar."

"Thanks, bud," his friend uttered. "Oh. What's for dinner later?"

"Tacos. They got the shells imported this week."

"Sweet. I'll help."

He was given a pat on the back as the laidback man headed back to the living room to set up the game station for them.

He was happy. He wasn't scared anymore, having expected men in black to barge through the bungalow's door and seize him. But the redhead, he was one of her colleagues, a new face who came last year.

Again, he stared back at his bedroom door.

He'd have to do his research another time. Maybe give one or two days until the heat died out inside the network.

"Randy, you coming? Starting off without you."

"Hey, wait up!"

The fifteen-year-old boy hurried into the living room.

* * *

><p><em>29 May 2006, 5:12 A.M.<em>

_El Delmor, Brazil._

The early orange rays seeped across the beautiful Amazon forest, cracking at the dark blue sky. Morning light was slowly streaming over the coastal city of El Delmor but it wasn't enough yet to stir the lively people of Brazil after another night of the Carnival.

The docks, however, were paid to do the morning shift without tiredness and delay.

Claire peered over a pile of crates. It was easy to get past the front gates thanks to the portentous radio speaker motivating a few officers there to cheer for Brazil for a winning goal in Spain, but difficult sneaking into the shipping area of El Delmor. Which was suspicious. Why need high-level security in a Brazilian shipyard and only at one cargo ship, the _Titancrest_ Line?

"Are you sure this ship will take us to this island?"

She looked over her shoulder. Behind her squatted Rebecca, wearing just as smart-causal as she was but with a different taste – then again, she could have not given Rebecca a chance to grab a change of clothes like herself. A simple band shirt, khaki pants and a light vest. Only her old STARS boots and the BSAA pouch belt were military standards. Claire had guessed being put on the spot after their call, Rebecca also grabbed whatever she felt was important but kept it light.

When they met at El Delmor's airport, Claire took her the story. That she was hacked in, was given a ton of documents about the most powerful company in the world – well-known to everyone for their charitable efforts to save lives – plotting to create a dangerous virus and was told that 8,000 people and more were trapped on an island against their will.

An island that didn't even remotely exist, no matter how hard she and Rebecca searched on every known online atlas.

Claire could easily read the disbelief from Rebecca's confused face. It was outrageous, baffling to hear HELIX Foundations was going to possibly be a repeat of Umbrella.

"You know that sounds crazy," Rebecca had outright said that.

The only one information she didn't tell her was about Steve.

No one, but Claire and Chris, knew the full story about what happened on Rockfort Island. Leon, of course, knew later on because of an investigation involving a drug dealer, tied together with the Veronica virus in 2002. Sadly, as much as she had hoped that Leon could be able to find something under the rocks, he found no clue to link to Steve's whereabouts.

She wasn't sure why. Maybe she didn't want to get her hopes up again too much. Even after seeing the photo. Not yet until she was face to face with Steve.

The photo could have been taken before Steve was captured and taken to Rockfort Island... Maybe the voice could have known Steve from way before. Or had information but never met Steve in person.

She just...didn't want to be too hopeful only to later have that hope shattered again. Experience thought her that.

Claire was then asked, "Have you told TerraSave about this? This sounds too big for just the two of us to handle."

She answered back she had forwarded the email back to her boss.

After getting her answer, Rebecca had crossed her arms. "And you want us to get a head-start? Take care of the situation long enough till everyone arrives to the island?"

Claire nodded.

Rebecca rolled her eyes and sighed. "I don't like the idea. But I've been meaning to take some time-off from R'n'D for a while. Fine. Chris is going to kill me for this."

"Don't worry. I'll just say I forced you to come."

"Nope. Not convincing enough."

Two hours later, they drove down to the docks. And now here they were.

"This ship is supposed to set sail across the Atlantic Ocean to Singapore, delivering medicine for HELIX's new building over there," Claire explained. "The documents had this line's name in them."

"Yeah but that doesn't guarantee that we'd be stumbling onto this Cape Inacio."

"No, but it belongs to HELIX. And it's the only shipping line partnered with them to go across the Atlantic. It's better than nothing."

"Oh, I really hope you're right because we'll be ending up in Singapore if you're not."

She shrugged with a smile. "Least you get to see the merlion over there... Just need to get on board as quietly as possible."

One quick look at the crew and the people in charge of hurling the cargo onto the boat took her it wasn't Pardo employees. It was a mix of different races, men and women wearing identical logoed jackets and caps, paid under HELIX to keep a tight schedule and maintenance. Also meant they had a tighter check on identification.

"So what's the plan?" Rebecca asked.

Claire noted the open hatch at the starboard. Small crates were being hand-carried into there.

No ID checks.

"Disguise as the crew and climb on board. We'll have to hide in the lower deck to get away from any ID check-ups." Luck must have been on their side on that day because she spotted some through the window of a nearby office, hung by a coatrack inside. She smiled to herself, remembering the little acts she did back in Paris, 1998.

"Claire?"

She wheeled back.

"These crates aren't pharmaceutical drugs." Rebecca had peeked under a burlap blanket over the crates. "They're food supplies. All sorts of supplies. The kind you bring to towns preparing for dangerous storms."

"So?" She wasn't following. "HELIX has done a lot of volunteer work for disaster areas across the world."

"Yes, but you just said this ship's heading to Singapore. Few BSAA members from the SEA branch are stationed there and they told me it's going to be the dry season soon. So...who's getting these supplies?"

They glanced back at the crates.

"The island." Claire looked around. She hadn't realized it until now, seeing the familiar supplier logo on most of every box around them.

Enough to help 8,000 people on a single island.

"She was right. "

A yell from the other side of the dock yanked at their instincts to duck back down. A manager, pushing his employees to work faster.

"C'mon. We have to hurry."

Stealthily, they kept themselves hidden between the containment units until they reached to the trailer. No one was inside the common room so carefully, Claire slid open the glass panel and pulled out the jackets and caps.

The two women hid their firearms away and tossed on their jackets. Caps on, lowered to their eyes.

"Grab those," Rebecca pointed at a few small crates.

The words, 'supply kits', were printed across the white clean labels. Claire didn't refuse. If they were going out to sea and without meeting any crew members, they could use the kits. Bunker downstairs on cans, packages and stored water for a while.

Hands on the crates, the two marched on, keeping away from any wandering eyes and staying quiet. Just act calm and surely, the plan would work.

_Click!_

The cold sound of a handgun was very close to Claire's ears. Coming from her right.

"Don't move."

* * *

><p><strong><span>Playable Characters<span>**

**Claire Redfield**

_White Bishop_

**_Date of Birth: _**1979

**_Age:_** 27

**_Blood Type:_** O

**_Gender:_** F

_**Race/Nationality:**_ Caucasian/American

_**Occupation:**_ TerraSave member

_**Teammate Class:**_ Field Agent

_**Weapons of Choice:**_

Melee – Combat Knife

Primary – Handgun (TerraSave standard)

Secondary – SMG

_**Stats:**_

Strength: ***

Stamina: ***

Accuracy: ***

Wits: ****

Speed: ****

Endurance: **

**Ability:**

Rally (team) – Motivates teammates, increasing their damages and giving a small boost to their health

Painkiller (team) – Reduces the amount of damage you or a teammate receives

Jackpot (personal) – Find more resources and consumables from breaking boxes and crates

*****/*/*/*****

**Rebecca Chambers**

_White Pawn_

**_Date of Birth:_** 1980

_**Age:**_ 26

_**Blood Type:**_ AB

_**Gender:**_ F

_**Race/Nationality:** _Caucasian/American

_**Occupation:** _BSAA member, R'n'D

**_Teammate Class:_ **Medic

**_Weapons of Choice:_**

Melee – Stun Baton

Primary – Handgun (BSAA standard), Flame Spray

Secondary – Tranquilizer Rifle

**_Stats:_**

Strength: ***

Stamina: **

Accuracy: ****

Wits: ***

Speed: ***

Endurance: **

**_Ability:_**

Field Medic (team) – Heals teammates faster and better within a large radius.

Stimpack (team) – Increases accuracy and movement speed on oneself or a teammate

First Aid Proficiency (personal) – Creates healing consumables with bonuses.

* * *

><p>Vickie: Ello all and we have Chapter One up. The start before a chess game that's about to begin. I originally had wanted to cut this story into 12 or 13 chapters but also decided I didn't want to write too long chapters too (keeping at bout 6000 to 7000 words at beast) and this is a very long story. So in retrospect, if this was a game, there would be estimated 12 long game chapters, consisting objectives you, the player will have to do. Of course, I'm not going to make this as broken as RE6 storyline's consistency was. So this chapter would be considered as the beginning cutscenes of the 1st game chapter. I would say at the point Claire and Rebecca tries to stowaway onboard is considered gameplay but I'm not too sure if that should be the case because you are not fighting zombies yet. Dun see this as a stealth mission either because you'd have to get on the boat without ever using guns until you reach the island. And stealth missions are more up Ada Wong's alley. So, eeeeeh, this is just an if. Probably just all cutscenes for this part.<p>

Onwards. I can imagine this whole story as a four-player game like Resident Evil: Operation: Raccoon City and Dead Island, but you'd be switching between characters a lot between game chapters. You the player, can choose which character you want to pick within the team in each game chapter and will experience that character's situations. Your team probably can end up being split into two, giving 2 different smaller story arcs until the team meets back together to continue on. More diversity in the missions you get.

Within a team, it'd always be four slots and balanced: normally, you'd be part of a team with two fighters, one tank and one backup (usually being a medic or a character in a support class). Now if say, there was a mission mode rather than a story mode, I can actually picture it going like Evolve where you, the players, can freely pick any playable characters within your team and must complete a team mission. Relatively speaking...

And if a game, no quick-time events. I dun care. Unless they are programmed well to be sync to the controls, I will never want to see QTEs in this game. Never... I still carry wounds from Tomb Raider (fawking...ending...stupid...QTE...died...14 times...all because of a fawking specs...)

Ahem. Also every time I introduce a playable character in each chapter, I'll write down their game stats and abilities below, what type of teammate they are, etc, pros and cons. Choice of weapons are default weapons for the AI but like any Resident Evil games, you, the player can change the weapons to your liking. Classes are ranged from: assault, operative, medic, support, recon, marksman, field scientist, interference and a few more I've not listed down or thought about. Oh and explosives, well, pretty much that's default to everyone. Mainly most, if not all, consumables are RE-standards like hand grenades, flash grenades, etc. Primary weapons range from handguns, magnums, taser guns (yes you get tasers, ammo for this are special batteries, one battery giving a couple of shots) while secondary weapons range from shotguns, submachines, assault rifles, and sniper rifles. Melee will always be a special melee specific to the character.

On to explaining the stats. Stats here do not mean it will affect your shooting and fighting because those are a major part of RE mechanics. It'd be stupid to affect that and lead players into an early death. Stats affect pretty much everything else: strength is how long it takes to do physical labour such as pushing open a heavy duty door or bashing your shoulder to open a locked door (annnd I can hear the groans of players who hate button mashing), stamina is how many bars your health has (it varies for other characters, most standard characters have three stars) and how quick your health bars recover, accuracy is of course gun accuracy (some characters are not experienced shooters like Claire and Rebecca), wits is how easy working on puzzles such hacking electronics or picklocking (even password input like in ZombiU), speed is speed, how fast you move around and endurance is how much damage the character takes (taking in consideration if wearing armoured vests and such). Stats you see for each character are default stats but will be improved by skills (which is from RE6 but there are a few I see that is irrelevant). Now as a player, you don't have to spend a lot on each character. Once you unlock a skill, that skill will apply for whichever character you play in each game episode regardless.

Lastly, survival abilities. These pretty much affect the gameplay like recovery rate or inventory slots, being decoy, etc. Each character has about three abilities: a personal and two team abilities, like what you saw above: Claire having a Rally ability to get allies motivated and increasing damage while Rebecca has her Field Medic ability to effectively heal teammates better. I've not figured out all of the survival abilities but it's getting there...slowly. So please note that the stats and abilities you see above for Claire and Rebecca may get updated as I perfect them.

One more thing before I end my game speech here is that this kind of game, I would not expect it to be a fast-paced game like RE6 (I personally felt the gameplay pace was pushing the players too hard, especially when they are given quick-time-events. GAH!). I'd like it to be a little like Resident Evil: Revelations. Keep to the horror, slow pace at the beginning and when crisis comes, then slowly pick up the speed. Give players more time to explore, more time to plan their attacks, etc. Difficulty is on survival (careful consumption of ammo, herbs), you're not only surviving with what you can find but also, if you play this as multiplayer or singleplayer with AI control, you are surviving as a group like Left 4 Dead. You can only survive by benefiting on others' skills just as they benefit on your skills.

Btw, if you guys noticed, I'm not gonna dwell in the romance section. Sorry. :D I'm a pure survival horror gamer. Additionally, I'm more into realistic character interactions than stereotypical directions. So you won't be seeing catfights, fistfights, making the damsel in distress fall hopelessly in love for the bad boy, whichever. I don't write something that doesn't work for character interactions and emotions. So if you're expecting this to be like any RE romance fanfic, then I'm sorry, this isn't what you're looking for, regardless which pairing interaction I put in (for example, just because you see Claire and Steve, doesn't mean I'm gonna write a bedroom scene to satisfy your fan needs). I'll only write romance if the situation calls for it but it won't be the main focus of this story.

Besides, has there ever been a legit romance in the RE verse? ._. As far as I've seen, it's pretty much been just good interactions, not, "Hey babe, let's hop into bed and drink the champagne". What's more, WHO HAS TIME TO BE IN LOVE WHEN YOU HAVE A ZOMBIE OUTBREAK! ? Maybe when you're in a safehouse or out of a crisis but REALLY! ?

...Ok there was that weird love story in RE6...again was weird in my opinion. I was amazed the writers went down that route.

Anyway, enough bragging from me. I hope you enjoy chapter 1. :) Please r'n'r! Also again, I still have one more question that needs to be answered in my help post (link is in prologue) so I really hope you can answer that. If not, then well, I'll just go around it like I did on the question bout Rebecca.

Btw, if you think that Rebecca joining the BSAA and working there in 2006 isn't a plausible outcome for her, please let me know. I have decided to put that in to finish chapter 1 but if you guys have better theories about her character, I wouldn't mind hearing. As I mentioned in my help post, Rebecca has been a difficult character for me to put in both the story and the game (but I also need a medic type character too). I can still rewrite her if you guys think otherwise.

Thanks again and enjoy.

PS. Question...Did I get Steve's eye color rite? 0-0;

PSS. I'd like to thank the guest for this fanfic's very first review. :) Thank you very much.


	3. Chapter Two: The Fortunate Islands

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two: The Fortunate Islands<strong>

* * *

><p>SHE COULD SMELL THE HINT OF GUNPOWDER. Cleaning lubrication. Maintained well but not fired recently. Claire's eyes slowly veered to the corners, spying the corkscrewing hole of the barrel.<p>

Gripping the handle tight with leather gloves was a well-fit man in his late twenties. Caucasian. Dark hair in a fauxhawk style. Tight zippered shirt, simple pants, outdoor shoes. She noted the shoulder holster under the open vintage cotton jacket, the four pockets puffy with perhaps ammo cartridges. No badge in sight.

A wide smirk. Confident amber eyes. Professional body stance.

"Hello, Gorgeous."

New York. Accent was a dead giveaway.

"Now, I'm not here to hurt you."

The man reached out an open palm to her, the other still on the trigger.

"Just need to borrow that jacket and cap off you. We both know that before you scream for help, I'd have to knock your lights out." She could feel his glance quickly move down her legs and then back up, not enough time for her to drop the crate and reach for her gun. "I don't want to do that to a nice-looking lady like you."

_Click!_

"Drop your weapon!"

The man frowned with a rise of his hands, feeling Rebecca's gun at the hairline. He never saw her circle around covertly.

"Hands in the air!"

It was a familiar voice, one Claire knew all too well.

The man's partner had scuffled into the scene, his weapon pointing at Rebecca. Rebecca made the mistake at turning back to the second man. The first swiftly wheeled round, his free hand seizing her gun out of hers.

"Leon?"

The second man's grip on the gun relaxed. Just a bit. He stared, mouth agape at Claire.

Nothing has changed about this man. Still the dirty-blond-haired government agent, prepared for any worst-case scenarios. Just like the first man, he was dressed to be ready for the field: buttoned shirt, collar open and his typical leather jacket to hide his shoulder holster with sleeves neatly rolled up because of the Brazilian heat. Canvas pants and leather shoes.

"Claire?"

The eyes of both the first man and Rebecca bugged wide.

"Wait, you two know each other?"

Leon ignored his partner. "What are you doing here?"

Claire just smirked. "I should be asking you the same question."

"_Leon, what's going on?_"

A mechanical voice resounded in Leon's ears, one the girls didn't hear. Once he gave a nod of OK to his partner, all guns lowered. The other man returned back Rebecca's gun, only to have it snatched away from her and be given a glower. Leon reached out a hand to his earbud. "Just an old friend."

The old grumpy voice of a man was on the other end via the comms spoke out. "_And pray tell why an old friend of yours is doing at the docks?_"

Leon turned back to Claire, his face stern. "Why are you here?"

"If I have to guess, the same thing you're after. Cape Inacio?"

Leon's eyes widened.

Yup, confirmed.

"Wait. You're the girl who got contacted by the hacker?" the other man uttered.

Claire looked with puzzlement. Contacted? The only person who has ever contacted her in the last twenty-four hours was...

It clicked in her head. And she didn't like where this was going.

"You _know_. The email I got."

Leon fought the urge to unprofessionally facepalm himself and just gave a small shake of disappointment at his partner's loud mouth.

He kept his glance firm against the angry daggers he was receiving from Claire. "Claire, you shouldn't be here. You need to get out of here before you two are spotted."

Claire scowled even more. She wasn't going to get her answers. How they knew, how the government knew that she was given one particular email and only that one. Guess some people weren't paranoid after all, claiming the government was checking in on everyone's emails and phone calls.

"No._** I**_ got that email. There is no way I'm backing out after hearing about this island."

"This is outside TerraSave's jurisdiction," the other man exclaimed.

"Doesn't matter. TerraSave should already have the email by now. Now explain. Why are two government agents trying to stowaway on a HELIX's cargo ship?"

"Claire, this is a lot bigger than you think-"

"I already know about HELIX's virus. That there are people on that island," Claire huffed at Leon, glaring progressively at him. "We are not going anywhere but on that boat, Leon. And if you won't let us, then we're leaving without you."

"_ENOUGH!_"

The voice was loud and strong, piercing through the eardrums of the two men. Leon could hear the frustration seeping through the earpiece.

"_Put me through with your friend._"

Reluctantly, Leon complied and signalled his partner to hand over two spare earbuds.

"Who am I speaking to?" Claire demanded after nicking one. She mentally prepared herself for an earshot from some government official.

"_Jerrod Matthews. NCIS._"

Ok, she did not expect to get someone like that on the line.

"_Now, I don't have time to be calling up TerraSave to ask why one of their members is over there. NCIS already has enough rope being hung by DSO over this case. And we're going to be late the longer this stupid argument keeps on going._"

The voice was right. Shouts from far away told the four that the crew was packing up soon.

"_I have a feeling you're capable of handling high-risk crisis if you know Leon well enough. So you can tag along, provided that Special Agents Kennedy and Daken keep an eye on you. __**No **__vendettas._"

She bit her lip. Great, being babysat. Not what she was hoping for.

Then again, with two more means of firepower, it could go a lot smoother than compared to her little vigilante adventures long ago. However, she didn't know or trust the new guy, Daken.

Leon, she could. They've been through a lot, whether or not it was fate playing at them to meet like this.

"_I want you boys and girls to play nice. Do I make myself clear?_"

"Alright." Also if she said no, she had a feeling this guy on the line might do something drastic. His voice told her that he wasn't deaf but seasonally experienced. It felt like she was facing Director Hopkins all over again. With military background.

"_Good, Leon can brief you up to speed once you're aboard. For now, __**get on that ship**__._" The last sentence was an order. 'Move it or lose it' kind of approach.

"I don't like this," the other agent honestly said. "First the navy and now we letting civilians on this mission. Sounds like a very risky thing to do."

"For your information, I work under BSAA," Rebecca hollered irritatedly.

"Really? And why is a BSAA member coming along too?"

"Vince," Leon called out. "Believe me when I say that these two are a lot more experienced than civilians. C'mon."

"Ok, but if these two are with us, how are we getting any disguises?"

"Your plan?" Claire asked Leon.

The blond shrugged with a smile, admitting it. "You beat me to the punch."

"Well, then in that case, we can help you boys out."

* * *

><p>The boss was yelling at his loudest for the day. The schedule was pushed forward by an hour surprisingly and at the very last minute. Workers had to get all the cargo on as quickly as possible so that <em>Titancrest<em> could be sailing off by seven.

Supply kits were still needed to be loaded up. Two employees were enough for that task alone while the rest went to load the rest of HELIX's medicine boxes.

"Wheet-whoot!"

The two workers turned to the sound of a whistle. Waving at them down the end of a lane between containment units were two grinning ladies. Their faces were immediately unrecognizable.

One worker was suspicious. "Hey, do you work here?"

The women didn't answer. Just disappeared behind the ends.

The personnel trailed down the lane. "This is private property!"

No answer.

"Call for secur–"

It went all too fast. They couldn't respond in time against the swinging elbows to their faces. They were then quickly grabbed from the side, one body to the right and one to the left. Arms wrapped around their necks, cutting off the circulation until the poor saps lost themselves into consciousness.

Leon and Vince moved the men to a safe, hidden blind spot.

"They'll be knocked out for a few hours. Won't be long once they learn about us stowaways," Vince exclaimed, tossing over a jacket.

"We'll deal with that when it happens. Jerrod, we're heading inside," Leon spoke through the comms.

"_Leon._"

This time was a woman's. A familiar one.

"Read you, Hannigan."

"_Once you're on board, all that metal will mess up reception," _Ingrid Hannigan, Leon's government contact, explained._ "You won't hear from us until you're about to find another form of telecommunications. You'll be alone out there._"

"Got it. Adding comms onto the list of things to find." The four hurried to the supply kits, each seizing one into their grasp.

"_MTAC has the ship on radar. We'll follow you on this end as much as we can. If we don't hear from you in the next seventy-two hours, we'll send in the Calvary,_" he heard the NCIS officer speak out.

"You'll hear from us in a day."

"_And Leon?_" Jerrod's voice hung in a pause. The serenity was slowly breaking. "_Get them out alive... You hear me?_"

Leon had stopped in his tracks. Claire noticed that.

There was a sense of responsibility, also put heavily on his shoulders. She could tell there was some kind of connection between the two men through the comms, one she wasn't sure of the details of but it was there.

Why was an NCIS official asking a lot out of him...

"...Will do, Gunnery."

It was a light promise. She could read it in his body that he too wasn't sure if he could keep it. But he had to try.

He turned back to them, the confidence back in his face. "Ready?"

Three nods back. Then out into the open, in a single file, hands on supply kits. Just keep calm and don't give eye contact. Easy said than done– Rebecca was holding her breath as they made their way to the side hatch. One worker was beside their own means of boarding on, with a checklist, clipboard and a pen in hands.

The employee spotted the supply kit boxes, marked down on the list and gave them a quick nod of approval, his attention then turning to a bunch of fragile boxes at the left end. "Hey, hey! Be careful with that!"

Two agents, one TerraSave member and a BSAA medic were in.

"Excuse me, coming through," an Asian woman slipped past them from behind and hurried up the stairs inside. They however, went down deeper.

"Just like old times?" Claire asked Leon.

"Like old times."

* * *

><p>Vince Daken glanced around. No workforces and guards roaming around the cargo hold. That was good. From what he had heard from outside three hours ago, the ship had departed, which meant the crew was focusing on the upper deck. Thirty minutes later, ruckus. This probably meant the two workers he and Leon knocked out had either woken up or been found and a warning message was sent to the <em>Titancrest<em>. Men swept across the decks but their search was amateur level. An hour more, the commotion died out. Could mean they found nothing 'suspicious' on board and sent back a reply that it could still be at the docks.

It had been a roller coaster but he was surprised they managed to pull this off.

"All clear," he muffled, returning back to their secret hiding place. "Heat's blown off for the time being."

"Any word from your informant?" his partner asked.

"Nope. But it's not like I can go up to her now. Could blow her cover too."

"I see. Any way of contacting her?"

"Would be the same situation we're in now. Metal hulls." Vince pointed at the grey sides with his thumb. "It's either I go snooping around during the workers' next break or I find her once we reach land."

"We should stay low for now. We don't know how tight their ID checks are now that they got wind of trespassers."

"Aye-yi, captain," he joked and kept a stiff grin even when Leon didn't join in. Always a tough crowd since he partnered with him.

The two ladies, however, had been tense and quiet the whole time, keeping a watchful eye as much as they can.

But that didn't mean everyone knew each other completely, other than to their own partners.

"Um, right. This is Vince Daken. And I'm Leon Kennedy."

During the disorder, introductions had gone out the window.

"Sorry about earlier. Just doing my job, Miss...?"

"Claire Redfield," she said towards Vince. "And she's Rebecca Chambers."

"Rebecca," Leon repeated. "You work with Chris."

"You know Chris?" The young short-haired woman was surprised to hear Chris's name from another stranger.

Leon nodded. "Just as well as I know Claire. You were involved with the mansion incident, right?"

The calm face Rebecca had been keeping on softened. Leon's unintentional prying opened up an old wound. "Yes... You were in Raccoon City?"

Leon nodded nostalgically. They shared that same wound, only different circumstances. "I was a police officer then. I met Claire when it happened."

"I see."

Silence leeched onto the atmosphere of the cargo hold, rigid with the stench of metal and medication. Three survivors from the worst incident in humanity's history, remising to their tender encounters of the past. Now, they were on their way to where possibly another outbreak could be taking placed at any time, or worst possible scenario, be released upon the world.

Vince, the only oddball out of the 1998 incident, felt the nervous need to break it.

"Ahem. Sorry to break this reunion but we have matters to press on?"

Leon agreed with a nod and shook off the remorseful rigidity inside him. "No doubt you have questions."

Claire crossed her arms at the reminder. "I'd like to know why the government was **_so _**interested in an email I got."

"It's not so much the email. It's who sent it to you."

"And you know who the person is."

"Yes. Anónimo."

Claire was instantly stunned. No, a better word would be shocked. The name, it was notorious. Well-known only within the confined spaces of the Internet. Comically dubbed as "The Peter Pan of the Net" in several forums.

She never pieced the puzzle together that it would be _that_ person. Yes, she was hacked. But the name never crossed her mind before.

"The masquerade hacker?"

"The one and only," Vince uttered.

Anónimo, the masquerade hacker. An uncatchable, unstoppable force inside the wide web. Almost every agency was after his head, even TerraSave. From what she'd heard, their database was hacked in and various types of information were targeted. After that, online security had been upgraded.

"No real name. No identity," Leon explained. "Absolutely nothing about this person other than the alias and his activities. Only surfaced in 2000 and hacked into over a dozen protected databases since then. He's been under the radar ever since."

"I've heard that name before. There were rumours about someone hacking into BSAA's databank," Rebecca pointed. "Twice."

"TerraSave was cyber-attacked last year," Claire added. "Could it be the same guy?"

"If you couldn't find any clues back then, then it had to be Anónimo. It's impossible to find him, let alone his IP address," Vince exclaimed. "Anónimo's activity used to be infiltrating precious data, stealing millions of dollars and making cyber-attacks in the past but as of recent, there's been evidence of him being involved in bioterrorism. The list goes on and on for this hacker."

"Seriously?" Rebecca gasped.

"There have been some connections with the Iraq war happening now and even conspiracies behind a couple of incidents. Like the Queen Zenobia Incident. The kidnapping of the President's daughter, which our hero so singlehandedly saved the day for her." Vince chirpily directed his eyes at Leon. "One dangerous man this Anónimo is."

Claire's gut feeling pricked again. A person with such a dangerous reputation, using the wide web as his domain, his power – perhaps gathering data like dangerous viruses and selling it off to potential buyers – would indeed be top priority to stop.

But...was that the same person she 'met' on her laptop?

She couldn't call that a human. More like some sort of character from a 90s game. Although there was no emotion when Anónimo 'spoke' to her, what Anónimo 'asked' of her was a pleading request.

Moreover, it was _she_ who was given the data of another virus. She was _shown_ evidence. And that didn't make any sense.

Could it be a trap by a cyber-genius instead? But for what purpose? She has never crossed paths with Anónimo till now.

"Ok. So what does this Cape Inacio have to do with this hacker?" she asked.

"We were given new information NCIS found through a case of theirs," Leon took over the conversation. "Their MTAC was also hacked five years ago. But Anónimo made a mistake and MTAC was about to pinpoint his last known location: in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean."

"Now the location, there's no known piece of land so NCIS heavily investigated on this. Until they were stonewalled by HELIX Foundations," Vince hummed. "Lawyers made a very convincing argument that the navy had no reason to look over the _Titancrest_'s routes."

"Several months back, NCIS joined together with DSO once they found out that there was another link to HELIX – a number of missing people over the last eleven years. Nearly 10,000 in total. And some were scientists."

The girls immediately saw the connection. "Scientists hired to develop a virus," Claire stated and she was given a nod.

Leon slipped out his phone, a special brand fit for an agent like himself and hit the buttons before passing it over to Claire. Rebecca peered over her shoulder. "This is a list of those names. The scientists are at the top. All specialized in medical, bioscience and biotech degrees. And every one of those people on that list shared the same story HELIX explained – they unfortunately passed away in some accident. Families have also been given settlements."

"That sounds too much of a coincidence. Hasn't HELIX been investigated on this?" Rebecca asked.

"Not enough evidence to link them," Leon groaned. "HELIX only admits that they did indeed hire the employees before they went missing and they were in 'condolence' over the losses. Hence, the settlements."

"If it's just employees, then who are these other names?"

"Close family members of those employees. Probably moving homes together."

"Why are they considered missing?" Claire asked.

"A lot of those deaths were registered from boat accidents and overseas. There was never any recovery of any body as well. _That_ is too much of a coincidence."

It was a vague answer. Claire had darted her eyes back and forth from the list, noting the change in Leon's voice.

She was about to point that out, meddle more reasons out of him as to why a number of people, presumed dead, was now presumed missing–

"McLenlan?"

The name was listed in the 459th line.

Iria McLenlan.

"Yes." Surprise tinted Leon's voice and only to that name. "That's one of the scientists. Do you know her, Claire?"

She didn't answer straight away. Personally, she didn't. She only heard of the name from the audio file. "No."

"Wait!" Rebecca suddenly grabbed the phone with the brightest air of disbelief. "As in the McLenlan sisters! ?"

Vince's eyebrows furrowed. "Is that like a name of some famous singing group?"

"Rebecca, do you know her?" Claire persisted.

"No. Only from my professors. But they were very well-known back then and even in the bioscience industry." Rebecca gave a nervous laugh once she noticed all eyes were on her for her sudden outburst. "You could say they were my idols. One of the reasons why I picked biochemistry. I even picked the same college they attended."

"You looked up to them, huh?"

Rebecca nodded. "Carme and Iria McLenlan. I heard more about Carme though, being renowned in biological sciences, genetic studies and psychology combined. She was the most brilliant out of the two, making and proving mindblowing theories." The beam on her face however faded. "But...I heard she passed away years ago. A lot of people said it was a very tragic loss for the medical world."

Claire pressed on more out of curiosity. "What about Iria?"

"Like Carme but more on virology. I heard that she had improvised many vaccines like the influenza."

"And this Iria McLenlan was hired by HELIX? Guess she's a potential evil scientist."

Rebecca frowned angrily at the dark-haired special agent. But the frown twisted to uncertainty as she glanced back at the name.

"What? We had crazy people-in-white creating the t-virus back in the 90s. And so on. Wouldn't surprise me if she turns out to be like them."

Was that the case? Claire wasn't sure to agree with Vince.

The woman in the audio file was begging her to get help. And she knew Steve somehow.

Belief and doubt was on Claire's lap altogether but there was nothing to jump to conclusions. The answers were on Cape Inacio. And she knew that if it was anything like Rockfort Island, getting them would be hard.

"We were able to find some information about an island under HELIX's name, thanks to my informant. No doubt their personal "island of Doctor Moreau"," Vince emphasized the term with causal twitching of two fingers. "But that wasn't enough to break the ice until Anónimo's next cyber-attack."

"The email."

"Yup. And that was after it was decided that the two of us should do a little recon. If we couldn't get more details out of HELIX, then we might as well get more out of this phantom island. With NCIS's cooperation, of course. That guy on the line didn't sound too happy about it," he continued with a roll of his eyes.

Leon, however, was indifferent. Which was strange to Claire. Wouldn't he agree with Vince how problematic it was doing cooperation between two different agencies?

"Anónimo was just the excuse we needed. Although, if that hacker contacted you, I don't doubt NCIS agents have seized your computer by now. With a warrant."

Claire narrowed her eyes at Vince. Great, a broken door and her house invaded...something to look forward to after this trip.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, it's just following protocol. Everyone's on edge about this one hacker."

"Once we get to the island, we'll need to know more about the situation there. And if there really are people, even hostages, saving them will have to be the highest priority. Contacting the navy is next," Leon pointed.

"You two aren't going to be wandering off on your own businesses, right?"

Claire was almost going to say no to Vince. Almost. She stopped herself because it was more of a half-lie.

Instead, Rebecca answered for her. "Of course not. This might be another Rockfort incident. And if what you said is true, there could be families in danger."

The TerraSave side in her agreed with Rebecca. The other was willing to drop everything just to confirm something else. To be absolutely sure she wasn't being fooled again.

To know the one she had lost...was indeed on that island.

She coughed to shake off the disturbing idea of sacrificing over 8,000 people for 1. "I don't know why Anónimo contacted me. But there's no way we can just sweep this one under the rug."

It was also a vague answer. She could feel Leon's stare steady on her, swooshing in to pluck at any sign of untruth.

He let it go. "Vince, see if you can't call HQ again. They should at least know we're doing fine before we lose complete range."

Vince tightened his eyes with a rise of an eyebrow. His lip curled, as though to call Leon out on his thinly veiled bluff, but he turned to leave.

Rebecca tensed on her seat, noting the seeping silence hung between Leon and Claire. On the spot, she could tell this was one talk she shouldn't be involved. "I'm...going to check out the kits. See what we can bring along."

The stillness still stood even after their partners left for their individual tasks.

"You know," Claire broke the silence. "NCIS only deals with crime against or by the navy. You haven't fully explained why they are so fully invested on this one, Leon."

Leon leaned backwards, now crossing his arms back at her. "And you never fully explained yourself why you're going to the island."

"I have my reasons."

He sighed, shaking his head. "I know that face." Eyes squirted on her unhappily. "This isn't one of those searches again, is it?"

She almost flinched on the spot. Damn this man and his investigation skills. Though frankly, she also picked them up from him over the years.

"And what if it is?"

Leon heaved a sigh through his nostrils. "Claire–"

"Before you say it, let me say this. I am not going into this one blind... I just want to..." She tried to find the right words. Not enough to give her reason away but the meaningfulness instead. "I want to know this isn't going to another dead end... And if it is...then I'll stop. For good."

This would make the seventh time. And she knew she couldn't go on anymore pointless hunts. At the third, she had decided it would have been the last.

This...this time...this was the last one she would do.

And finally move on...

"What exactly do you expect to find?"

If she was asked that question eight years ago, she would have immaturely given a hopeful answer. Expecting a miracle but back then...that was denying reality.

"...A body..." she admitted to Leon. "A body to bury."

That was what she was hoping for. No, had hoped.

Before the email, she was hoping to find Steve's body and bury him in a nice cemetery, maybe at his hometown. He was dead. He wasn't going to come back. She had already accepted that fact, having gone through the stages of grief months after her loss.

If he did...it would only mean the worst possible outcome.

She didn't want that. To see him come back like that.

She would only be satisfied once she'd find his body and put it to rest.

Away from _that_ man.

"Now you." She turned the tables around. "I noticed it too, Leon. This mission has gotten you rattled."

"I have my reasons," he explained calmly. "Just as you do."

She bit the side of her mouth but decided not to make a comeback. "Fair enough. But I pretty much gave you a hint."

He chuckled, showing off the first signs of age lines. "I owe a friend a favour."

"This Jerrod, right?"

Leon couldn't hide his smile.

Claire then connected the dots, staring back at the list of names. "...One of these families is Jerrod's, isn't it?"

The smirk softly vanished.

"...I don't know what to expect from this island. But if this is anything like Rockfort Island..." He stopped himself. If he said what she expected him to say, it would only jinx it.

For all they knew, Jerrod's family could be...

"I don't want to get his hopes too high. The only problem is–" He stopped again, this time giving a surprisingly cautious look, first checking his earbud as if his friend would be eavesdropping. "He's an incredibly stubborn man." Leon grinned lightly. "...He believes they're still alive."

"I think I know the feeling."

Another pause between the two.

"Claire, I just want to know," Leon started strongly. "Are you going to be OK?"

There wasn't hesitation. Doubt. The gaze he was getting wasn't predictable uncertainty that would affect her focus in this assignment.

"You don't have to worry about me, Leon. This is like any other job."

"Phew!"

Breaking through the steady silence, the petite woman walked into the hiding spot with a few items, some being standard first aid. "It took a while but these should be useful for us. I never expected finding an axe inside those kits too."

Rebecca then noticed the heavy, thick awkwardness.

"Um... Was I interrupting?"

She was given a lot of spontaneous no's from the two. Whatever conversation they had, it had died under the crashing waves outside.

_Oh, this was going to be a long voyage..._ Rebecca thought.

* * *

><p><em>30 May 2006, 4:23 P.M.<em>

_Atlantic Ocean._

A day had passed and the only way of telling time was from the smartphones in the team's possession. Commotion arose from above the steel ceiling, just as loud as that during the ship's departure.

At Leon's order, the four cleared up the hiding spot of any evidence of their presences and carefully climbed out of the lower deck. Their suspicions were confirmed without drawing attention – at the horizontal line of the ocean sat a tiny little archipelago.

Everyone on board was preparing for arrival to one of those islands, the biggest one.

Once preparations were finished, an order yelled out to get ready to haul the cargo out onto a large pier once they docked. A moment later and loud metal thunders told them the anchor had fallen. The four waited a little longer for the opportunity to causally walk out of the side hatch.

"So, what exactly are we expecting once we touch land?"

"If Cape Inacio is like Rockfort Island...a prison camp," Claire answered Vince's question. The voice from the audio had said prisoners were taken there. No doubt the families were locked up too. "And some research lab for the virus. They'll probably have military force too."

Rebecca looked up with worry. "You think we can handle this?"

Leon held in his reply. Nope. This wasn't a rescue mission for one president's daughter. Just a bigger scale, to be frank. "One step at a time."

Another holler from outside and the side hatch opened ajar, daylight slowly creeping through.

"Get ready for anything."

And out they went into the blinding light.

The clear white flare burned to the point Claire was forced to cover her eyes with one hand. Once her vision adjusted to the strong light, she blinked several times confusedly.

_What..._

Her mind took longer to proceed the surroundings than she had hoped. She had been expecting more of a...dead island.

The blue sky reflecting on the cerulean sea.

The shining sun and glittering water.

The gentle breeze and the calm sounds of waves.

This scenery before them was so stunning that it was unimaginable from the private prison island in the Southern Ocean. It shouldn't have existed. But the heat on their skin, the smell of salt and the cawing of seagulls were telling them this was real.

Why... Why was Claire seeing all this?

Rebecca inadvertently released out a gasp, marvelling at the beauty before her. In a world where ruthless corporates' viruses occasionally distorted it many times to grim ugliness, this one little island's existence – untouched by death, chaos and grief – was defying such odds.

"Do all prison camps look this idyllic where you come from?" Vince dryly drawled.

* * *

><p>White sand. Clear ocean water. Palm trees. It was very much different from the grey, lifeless environment of Rockfort Island. What they were seeing before them could be labelled as the perfect Bahamas getaway location for any tourist.<p>

The small team had sneaked off the_ Titancrest_, blending well as part of the crew through the pier they were on – strangely weather-protected and fortressed. Once they were out the docks, they ditched their covers and wandered down the dirt road. Two minutes passing a few warehouses, they found themselves entering a nice community town. Anyone's guess, enough for 8,000 people.

"West Koralo," Rebecca read off a sign. The name of this strange and mockingly-friendly town. Above that sign waved a flag depicting the American flag symbol at one corner and the other side, the symbol of a brightly-colored small bird. A little similar to the Cayman Islands' flag.

No prison walls. No guard towers. Not even barred wire, huge spotlights or BOWs running amok.

"This is so surreal," Claire admitted. It was so alien. Nothing like she'd expected.

She had thought there would be walls imprisoning people, one by one used for sick experiments. There would have been death on the streets. Blood. The dead walking about. But there was none. Instead, there were happy faces and laughter under the loud notes of Cuban music playing from a nearby radio. Faces of civilians freely living a blissful life under the tropical afternoon sun.

The further the four outsiders walked onwards, the more they were seeing types of structures; grocery store, pharmacy, hardware store, clinic, police station, auto shop and many more. The necessities and growth of a town. As far as the eye could see was the ocean of buildings, three-storey apartments and bungalows. Further off the distance into the tropic forest uphill, radio towers.

"Is there really any danger here?" Vince asked quietly. "Doesn't look like anyone's down with an illness or anything."

Maybe the outbreak hasn't happened yet. Claire confined it in herself not to say that.

It was still the 30th of this month. Tomorrow, the 31st, should be the endgame.

"I don't know. But we can't cause panic for these people. The calmer they stay, the better for us," Leon stated.

It was a little harsh but everyone agreed. Especially when it seemed like a majority of the townsfolk was busy.

Since the four first came into town, they've noticed everyone else was retrofitting the buildings. Nailing boards on windows, working on the rooftops and reinforcing doors.

"Well, everyone here looks like they're prep for a storm," Vince said.

"Excuse me."

At a fancy retro diner, named "The Dainty Mermaid" – the sign decorated with an adorable dugong mascot – Claire called out to a woman tending to the windows with each steady whack of a hammer.

The woman wheeled round and beamed. "Oh. Hello. I don't recognize you lot." Australian accent. She stood up and rose out an open hand. "Welcome to Cape Inacio."

Claire shook back. The hand in hers was real. This was no dream she was having. "Thank you. Um, yeah. We just arrived today."

Vince was about to step in, bewildered at the brunette for starting the spilling of beans but Leon stopped him. Better to act causal anyway.

"We don't often get new faces round here. I suppose you also got hired by HELIX to work at the facility."

"Yes." Just play along. "We're looking forward to it. Um, sorry but what's happening here?"

"Oh, right. You wouldn't know. This island has hurricanes every summer. We've all been preparing this week for this year's storm. Weather forecast says it might be the worst one yet in a decade."

Claire fought the urge to groan. A hurricane.

Terrific.

Well, the ship did carry supply kits for storm preparedness. She was just hoping that would come much later in the year, let alone a hurricane.

The woman gave a soft giggle. "You picked the wrong time to start work."

"Could you tell us more about this facility, miss–?"

"Margaret. You can quit the formality, love," she cut Leon short with a stronger laugh. "Everyone here are like close friends. You'll get to know everyone pretty quickly."

"Um, I see. Margaret, could you tell us about the facility?"

"Well, I wouldn't know much about what goes on there. They don't let anyone except employees down at the east. My husband works in security though so he has a better idea. From what I understand, um...the reason for the research facility is because HELIX discovered a variety of natural herbs here and they're cooking up new medicine. Most of the economy here is because of those medications. They should have told you this at the briefings, right?"

"Hey, Marge!" A large middle-aged African-American, partly bald, lightly shaved moustache-beard and wearing what looked like the overalls of a worker at the pier stepped carefully down the ladder. "Roof's done. Should be better than last year–" He had just noticed the new visitors. "Oh, hello."

"Hugh, they just came today. They'll be working over at the facility."

"Pleasure to meet you all." His shake was rough and sturdy to the newcomers but very much welcoming. "Hugh Bernard. It isn't much here but hope you find this place to your liking."

The four had no choice but to introduce themselves too.

This sociable conversation, meeting these new people like Claire had with meeting her next door neighbours back home, it was like she was being ridiculed at.

Was the plea she was sent a joke? Or were these townsfolk playing a trick on her?

All of this was just taunting her.

They had to know, right? About the facility. About the virus. How could they act so causal?

She bit her tongue. _Stay calm._

"I didn't expect a town to be here though," Rebecca said.

"It's been here for eleven years now," Hugh explained. "HELIX wanted their workers to bring families along. Have both work and family together."

The missing people...

"Do you work at the facility?"

"Oh no. My sis does. She's the brainy one in the family. I work at the docks," he chuckled loudly. "I'm surprised to see more hire. We haven't gotten any newcomers since..." He stopped. "The new kid, he came when?"

Margaret shook her head. "You know he doesn't like to be called a kid."

"Well, Iria always calls him Kiddo." He clicked his fingers, trying to figure out something in his head. "It was last year, right? Yeah. A year since we had anyone new come to town."

"Say, about earlier, being there's a hurricane and all," Vince started with a weak laugh. "But shouldn't you be, oh, I don't know, evacuating?"

Hugh returned back a bewildered rise of an eyebrow. "I'd like to see you try. Waters round here are too dangerous for most ships to venture out. You came from the _Kharon_, right?" He pointed a finger off to the distance and the four wheeled back, just barely spotting the roof of what seemed like a large ferry. "That's the only ferry in and out. And it's not fast enough to get away from a hurricane."

"There are shelters around town, though. But all of us just head to the pier. Place's built to withstand the storms for us," the Aussie lady explained.

"Announcement will ring before the hurricane hits us. Anyway, there's a motel three blocks away for you all. Make yourself at home till then."

"Yeah. Thank you," Leon said lightly.

The four then continued on their way after the goodbyes, Claire glancing back a glimpse. A young girl, she assumed was about twelve, had exited out of the diner and hurried to Margaret. A daughter. Same age as Sherry was back then..

She felt her insides turn cold.

She truly and silently prayed to God, wherever the hell he was, that there wasn't going to be an outbreak. Or else that little girl by the diner, any other child on this island, was surely going to be as traumatic as Sherry was back in Raccoon City...

Unknown to the new guests, their unexpected arrival had not gone unnoticed. The black, shuttering lens of many security cameras above any line of sight narrowed at the four below.

Within a fraction of a second, the cameras picked up their faces and wirelessly sent them off to the island's network. The computers of a small military bass ran those identities through a database.

No results.

"Call him. We got company."

* * *

><p>"She said east," Leon began.<p>

The crack of the town was only metres away, breaking into the thick jungle with vines, roots and trees twisted about that made it look like a near-impossible feat on foot.

"Hang on." Claire had already drew out her phone and brought out the electronic map. It would prove useful, she told them back on the ship, explaining it was one of the attachments from the email. She had been studying the landmarks for some time, noting eight entrance points and what seemed like the facility near a cresent-shaped lagoon far away. "It's some distance away. May be faster by car."

It was half a good idea, Leon agreed mentally. "It'd draw too much attention though. No choice but to walk to one of those points."

"Yeah. You're up to the task, Rebecca?"

Rebecca wickedly grinned. "Come on, Claire. I may not go on the field as much as you two do but I sure can outrun the two of you."

"Cocky," Leon praised.

"We might need to be extra careful then." The three turned back to the other agent, his attention to a poster on a stoned wall. He stripped it off as they huddled round him.

It was kind of a propaganda poster with the words, "We serve to protect YOU!" and "Jungle Rescue" at the bottom. Three letters boldly conquered most of the spaces, along with sharp cell-shaded designs of body-armoured soldiers in courageous stances.

"HCF," Vince read. "What does that stand for?"

"Host/Hive Capture Force."

Vince and Rebecca turned to Claire with surprise, first at her sudden exclaim and second at her angry face.

She was all too familiar to that name.

Claire grounded her teeth inside her shut mouth. _That_ man's personal army of grunts.

"Leon..."

"Yeah..." The blond tightened his eyes intensely. Reports had told him about this name and only one link to a certain person. "Wesker's here."

The two partners widened their eyes, each with different feelings but still the overall shock.

Of course. The most dangerous man in the world. On this very island.

Rebecca had a hard time believing this since Raccoon City. Granted, she had rarely crossed paths with Wesker within the headquarters of STARS back in the days. That was back then when she was still a rookie and Wesker was a captain.

No one had expected him to turn villain then. He proved them wrong.

"Then this is a lot more serious than we thought. We should contact DSO right away. Get more guys," Vince urged.

Leon glanced up to the faraway radio towers. Right now, the comms through the earbuds were dead. They were too far away to contact anyone without some booster.

Hannigan did say they needed to find an alternative means of communication.

"We better choose then. The facility or the radio towers," he laid out the choices.

"The facility, of course," Claire replied hastily. "It'd take too long for anyone to get here."

"Ok, I give you credit for being brave and fierce but aren't you being crazy to be waltzing over there?" Vince hollered.

"It's only a matter of time before Wesker gets his hands on this virus once it's finished. We should get there before he does."

"And how would you know that?"

"It's Wesker. I bet you on my life he wants this more than anything. Even over the lives of these people!"

"And you want us to take whatever vial they have over there first?"

"Or better yet, destroy it."

"Dear god, this girl is unbelievable," he openly and frightfully admitted, which Claire took no offense to or even accept it as a compliment.

"She's right. The virus's our top priority now," Leon voiced out his concern. "We're going to be making a lot of noise, Claire. Even blind on this one."

"Well. We should get started then."

"Guys?"

Rebecca's call was slowly drowned by the sound of dirt wheels rushing down the open road. Sure enough, they found themselves being quickly surrounded.

With guns.

Four jungle jeeps. About fifteen men wearing black military uniforms, holsters and looking very much unhospitable to the four. Stitched onto the back of each soldier were the letters, 'HCF'.

One of the men, a captain, jumped off the vehicle and approached them. Assault rifle down.

"You _rats_ are far away from home. Any reason why you've wandered off to this island?"

"Taking a vacation?" Vince quietly droned, not loud enough to dare piss off the captain.

No one gave any other answer.

"Quiet lot, aren't you? We can fix that. Sorry this isn't a welcome wagon with coconut drinks and martinis."

Some of the grunts snickered. Others just kept quiet, fingers tight on the triggers.

The odds were stacked against them. Leon mentally counted the trained highly-functional gunmen. Against four. The risk was too high. What was more, in their small group were two women.

Yes, Claire could take care of herself. She has showed that very clear back in the days. But these weren't mindless undead cannibals and like hell, he'd let these men hurt the ladies.

If anything, he could seize one grunt and use him as leverage to give them time to flee.

"Now, come with us. Don't worry. The boss wants you four alive."

"Your boss's Wesker?"

No change in expressions. But Leon knew deep down, it had to be true.

"Eager to meet him, I see? You'll have to wait. He's busy at the moment. Now, drop your weapons. We don't want to draw attention and get civilians involved in a **_gunfight_**."

Oh, that was low.

"You'd kill people on this island? Isn't this town your home?" Rebecca yelled.

The captain laughed even harder. "Oh, please. Those people are just leverage for us to keep the staff in check. If we could, they'd make good target practices for us."

Claire's mind flashed back to the little girl, Margaret and Hugh. She desired to put a bullet in the captain's schmuck face.

They were outnumbered, chained on the spot. Once guns were shot, any by-passer from town would come and get injured during the fire.

Quietly, she and Leon exchanged glances. She read the next objective: surrender quietly. For now. Until they were far enough from innocents.

Unwillingly but with more prodding of the rifles at them, the four stripped off their weapons to the ground.

"Welcome to Cape Inacio," the captain said 'warmheartedly'.

It was only a brief moment coming from her left but the bulk end of another assault rifle launched towards her.

_BAM!_

Darkness quickly swallowed her up. She never had the chance to hear the others call out her name...

* * *

><p><strong>Leon S. Kennedy<strong>

_White Rook_

**Date of Birth:** 1977

**Age:** 29

**Blood Type:** A

**Gender:** M

**Race/Nationality:** Caucasian/American

**Occupation:** U.S. Government Agent

**Teammate Class:** Operative/Field Agent

**Weapons of Choice:**

Melee – Survival Knife

Primary – Handgun (Government standard)

Secondary – Shotgun

**Stats:**

Strength: ****

Stamina: ***

Accuracy: ****

Wits: ***

Speed: ***

Endurance: ***

**Ability:**

TBA

***/*/*/***

**Vince Daken**

_White Pawn_

**Date of Birth:** 1978

**Age:** 28

**Blood Type:** B

**Gender**: M

**Race/Nationality:** Caucasian/American

**Occupation:** U.S. Government Agent

**Teammate Class:** Assault

**Weapons of Choice:**

Melee – Baton

Primary – Handgun (Government standard)

Secondary – Assault Rifle

**Stats:**

Strength: ***

Stamina: ****

Accuracy: ****

Wits: **

Speed: ***

Endurance: ***

**Ability:**

TBA

* * *

><p><strong>Game Objections:<strong>

-Head to the Dainty Mermaid.

-Leave West Koralo

* * *

><p>Vickie: I was really hoping that this chapter won't be too long-winded not only because it'd be lame to hear [explanation] all the time but also because I want to jump to the action as soon as possible (sadly that would only start next chapter). Even had planned that each game chapter is about 3 writing chapters so I fear that this 1st game chapter may go long. Granted, if a game, you can go two ways: have a short start and be thrown into the situation well or build up the tension until you reach a certain point where hell is loose. However, I do want my playersreaders/whatever to feel the need to drop their guard down first. This is something I've rarely seen done well, especially at the beginning with the thought, "Oh sure. There are sooo gonna be zombies the moment I step on this island."

Meh, of course, if this was a game, I bet ya the story would be edited than compared to what I wrote. :T

And btw, introducing the fourth playable character (and I do need to make the team number as four per team, as well as being a semi-tank), Vince Daken. Yes, he's an OC. Yes, readers in fanfiction tend to not like OCs. But really, I've seen a lot of you guys go excited over Jake Mullers and Piers. ALL CHARACTERS ARE BASICALLY OCS! Just see any OC I write as playable character. And not some pointless one that serves no purpose (I've seen those in some games, especially Kidman in Evil Within. I'm sorry but I just HATE the fact that one character DOESN'T FAWKING CARRY A GUN in a game where everyone's LIVES depends on SHOOTING).

Additionally, a head's up. Any character that is given a description, that's a playable character for you, as a player, to choose during each game chapter. So you can guess, Hugh the big guy, is playable too. Juuuust, not yet. :P First half of my story, I've already made and picked which will be playable on the get-go and the second half, the rest of the cast. So just be patient but still enjoy the characters. :D Heck, you already start with Claire, Leon and Rebecca anyway.

Another head's up too would be that I'm gonna be listing down game objections in each chapter. And if needed. XD Just for fun. Usually at the end of the chapter anyway, but ideally, gives you an idea what you have to do rather than running headless. There is still freedom, like Dead Island (but no side quests cuz I dun recall coming across those in RE games, I think) and Evil Within, where you can briefly explore to find more items. This part in this chapter, it isn't relatively jumping into the battles yet but I will say you can explore a bit in West Koralo at the beginning to find or be sold items too (I'm thinking of a Cuban vendor who sells stuff and weapon upgrades on the street…yes, inspired by our lovely weird merchant in RE4).

Also, I've made some changes, even in the last chapter: 1. Being Steve's eye color, thanks to Sheenah and her awesome review. :) 2. The name of the cargo ship line, decided to give a ferry the named _Kharon_ instead. Sounds fitting. Yeaaah, a ferry named after the ferryman from Hades' underworld. 3. Each playable character is now labelled with the name of a chess piece. The reason for this comes later and it's just me having fun. :P

I've also made some changes to gameplay for this idea. I was thinking back about what I said on skill points in the first chapter. Scratch that. When I thought more, it sounded more annoying to be finding skill points from exploration, even if some comes from killing zombies. I think the better way for player progression would be instant experience gain like how you get in Battlefield or Evolve (after each round, you get exp from killing and stuff to unlock levels). That would be more easy and maintainable for you all to level up (and not be spending on pointless skills).

Another point is on single-player, I know players would prefer not to always have to need to keep an eye out on their partners, especially in single-player. And that only works well if the AI is done well (which, I will have to say in RE6, the AI's a lot better than I expected). I had thought of this option that as single-player, you can be left behind while the others in your team go ahead like a typical RE in the old days...but sounds weird though. Even when you may get killed alone too. One thing for sure in single-player, you do not need to share your items, especially when items are limited in horror games. In multiplayer, you do have that option but it won't be like one person steals your item away from you. You all equally get the item altogether (but if separated into twos, then not really because I'd say you'll relatively get the same amount of items from each arc so there's no point in doubling items or else it breaks away the item scarcity). Another thing is to keep the horror factor, even when you aren't alone. Revelations, I will say, did that fantastic even when you as Jill had a partner some of the time. You still felt lonely and scared with all the sounds going about, when Parker was right next to ya. Being in a four team would sound like it's killing the horror but as I said before, you won't always be together as a full group in the same game chapter all the time. You'd be separated, you'd have to be through different arcs as compared to other teammates. You'd still be alone and the worst part, you'd be afraid to lose your teammate so that you aren't alone (but not be frustrated by crappy AI or unexpected situations like hey, the monster's eating up your mate, mate). As a die-hard horror gamer, I'd want that over pure action just as it's done well in Alien Isolation. I'd want to be forced to think out my plans carefully to survive long enough over just irrationally shooting like Rambo and wasting bullets. That's what gets my blood pumping. It's the same for some non-horror games like TF2 (yes it's not horror but it's an action game that also forces me to think how I can push my team to victory). Not scared that I'd get frustrated but scared that I need to survive. :)

Also, if you've been reading the dialogues and noticed there aren't a lot of cheesy lines...I'm not very good at those. At all. Sometimes if the opportunity needs it but not as much as RE series have done. Every single second. (If anything, I'd prefer the humour in L4D series than RE series…cough) I will try a bit but not to the point the slapstick will cause me to slap myself at the pointlessness. We had those moments, people. Don't deny it.

Also, yes, Wesker is back.

I found it strange that in Revelations he wasn't entirely involved in it, especially when TRICELL was but then again, would make sense that he doesn't NEED to be the mastermind for every plot of world domination (or whatever the antagonist's plot was in it). I'd say I'd expect Wesker to appear again in any games that take place before his death at least once soooo if Capcom decides to make a game before 2010….hurrah(?). Additionally, I was always wondering what happened to HCF since they never appeared again since CV. I'm guessing at some point in history, something happened to Wesker's little army or they were placed together under TRICELL's control when he started work under them. And this guess gave me some ideas, especially having HCF being used as a private force to keep control over the island.

SO EXPECT HCF TO BE AN ENEMY, BOYS AND GIRLS! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! ! !

Moreover I've made a rough idea of the classes. Note. ROUGH. Don't know if I'll add more or work more on what I have. Expect changes. Classes:

**Tank**

**Assault** – Draws zombie attention to oneself and deal more damage  
><strong>Operative<strong> – More firearm variety (from using assault rifles to sniper rifles, magnum, etc), more defended, average speed

**DPS (If anyone can give me a better term than this, beep me. I can't find anyway)**

**Field Agent** – Balanced class, excellent on certain skills and firearms, quicker than operative but average defense  
><strong>Interference<strong> – Manipulates zombies to do disorientated things to each other

**Support**

**Recon** – Locate and infiltrate enemies ahead for team, does well doing surveillance  
><strong>Medic<strong> – Heals teammates and has knowledge of how to incap zombies using chemicals

Some characters's classes are mixed like Leon's and some are pure.

And before I move on, one last thing. If you notice at the top, I usually put a quote. This one does not. That's because each game chapter has a quote, not my individual chapters. So every time you see a quote above, means we've moved on to the next game chapter...Yeah, makes no fawking sense. But just give me credit for trying to write this like it's a game.

And with that, hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Please r'n'r too! Feedback helps me alot. :D

PS. Claire searching for Steve's body to put it to rest, yeah, you all didn't expect that did ya? Sorry but to me Claire searching for him as being 'alive' doesn't sound like a realistic reason. It sounds too hopeful in a zombie game. I mean, say your boyfriend or girlfriend got turned into a man-eating undead, with no cure, would you really be hopeful in saving him/her? No. You'd put them out of their misery. You'd have to be as sick as the psychos in Dead Rising series to make them endure like that. Also that reason has been used frequent in a lot of Claire/Steve fanfics soooo why should I follow the norm?

Ooooh, you're gonna be seeing me make different choices and hate me cuz I'm not making a typical RE romance. AGAIN, not always my cup of tea.

PPS. (Ooooh is this note making this chapter too long) Got another question which I will also put in my help forum. Wesker worked under a lot of outside companies right? (Geez, how does this guy get around). Just to be clear, these are the ones he worked under so far: the rival company (where Ada worked under and I presume still is in 2006), the organization (that has Spencer in it) and TRICELL, correct? Also if at one point did Wesker stopped working under the rival company since it's never mentioned his continuation with them (the organization, I know he took over in RE5...supposedly(?) and TRICELL, he still worked under or mostly took over during RE5) If I'm wrong on any point, please let me know. This will be helping me on how he has earned a spot under HELIX as well as some possible plot ideas that actually could fill the gaps between points in Wesker's life. :D Imagination galore.

PPSS. Have left abilities empty for now because I really do need to work more on them before I fill them up. So expect this slot to be empty for a while.


	4. Chapter Three: Breakthrough

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: Breakthrough<strong>

* * *

><p><em>30 May 2006, 7:20 P.M.<em>

_Level D, Theseus Research Facility_

HE HAD TAKEN HIS TIME sauntering deeper into the facility, his destination ending at the fourth level. There was no rush. Time was in his grasp, at his own pace.

No one dared choose to cross paths with him. Interrupt him. Defy him. They were below his feet, the very worms they were, waiting fearfully on command and knees. Some sucked up to him. Some wanted to shoot him down in retribution but not enough to gamble away their pitiful lives.

After all, he was in control. Sure, those fat lazy dogs of HELIX Foundations had a say sometimes but it was he who brought out the full potential within this enormous project with nobody standing in his way...

Well...only _one_ proved sometimes a challenge within these walls. But where was the fun without such a character?

He strolled into one of the research labs. Inside, a group of high-rank scientists were rather cheery for the night. The liveliness crashed into a halt once he entered, like a black personification of the end, sucking out all the joy. He eventually got his answer why the early celebration.

Ah...so it was finally reaching the last lap of analysis...

Ten years. It has taken him ten years since he stepped forth into the project. He had been _very_ patient...watching it grow like it was his precious child.

_Hm. An amusing thought._

The blond-haired man in black clothes continued onwards to a room in the back, having noted one wasn't in the partying group. With his absence, the merry continued quietly but that didn't interested him the slightest.

He found her standing in front of the large screens, all alone in the quiet computer room. No such jolly across her stiff, tired face like the others in the vicinity.

He spied a twitch on her shoulders as he walked in, but the ash-blond-haired half-Latina never turned around. On the spot, she had already predicted his clockwork arrival as equivalent to a disgusting vibe that needed to be shaken off. He was 'vaguely' insulted but admitted silently that it was a remarkable sight every time he _bumped _into her.

After all, on this island, they were both enemies. Outside, only one man, that shrewd BSAA soldier, took that spot. In here, it was the battle of wits but out there, his mind, body and spirit were tested against that Redfield.

On occasions. Not as frequent as that against the Half-Latina.

"You are indeed predictable," Albert Wesker said flatly. "You should be rejoicing to the breaking news."

He stood just next to her, inches away. Despite her indifferent persona as her shield, his very attendance was surely provoking her from the inside.

"And yet here you are with that long frown," he humorously taunted. "What's the status?"

The woman refrained from even glancing back at Wesker. An unpleasant face just merely stared into open space.

"You've already heard. There's no point in me repeating it."

His humming soft hilarity was just pricking at her nerves.

"I'm asking _**you**_ for the details. No one else."

The calm, manipulated ending tone enforced her in her place. But she didn't care.

"...Zero signs of rejection in the phagocytosis process. All spliced characteristics from previous viruses and parasite have successfully combined with the original variant... If the tests don't show any red flags...we can move on to human experiments with this new variant..."

The blonde didn't steer her eyes to the corners to spy how gleeful he was at her words. She merely tightened them with distaste at the screen.

"Some good news indeed. It was rather disappointing on the last several endosymbionts. How long?"

"Estimated...maybe a week. Or two."

"That is a long number of days. But then," he started, wheeling his shaded eyes on her. "Are you sure that is exact? Or are you just delaying _**again**_?"

"One or two weeks. If you want this virus perfect, then you're going to have to give it more time," she steadfastly stated with a strict tone. So it seemed she would continue to delay. "I could have said all that on the phone. Why are you here?"

Straight to the point.

"Oh?" His eyebrows lifted behind his black sunglasses. "After all the time we spent working together and I'm still not welcomed."

She didn't find his _sense of humour_ at all entertaining. Not even open-hearted to his so-called _assistance_.

Indeed, his visit was...unannounced. It wasn't unexpected that the woman would find this uncalled stay as suspicious. Or any other time he visited the island with or without a call.

"It's strictly business. I'll be staying overnight to go over with my men on new routine plans."

He had been taken by surprise when he received a call earlier today... One of the reasons why he decided to make the surprise trip.

Oh, how would this unfold? It didn't alter his original plan...

"There are going to be some changes around here."

"What do you plan to do with the kiddo?"

It was straightforward, a rather pissed off question. Now, the woman faced him with one of her angry moods again.

Of course. The 'kiddo'.

He always wondered why such a silly, little pet name...

"Why?" Wesker might as well please her for the time being. "You were very supportive of him to accept my proposal."

"Don't play daft with me, Wesker," she hissed. "That transfer is adding him into your damn militia. In South Africa. What _**are**_ your plans?"

Wesker chuckled. Yes, this was the face he enjoyed seeing. Reminded him so much of another.

"Oh, I'm not too sure myself. He has proven to be an excellent specimen indeed in just one year. Surpassed all of my soldiers. But it's not to impress me." He neared closer to her in a dark and threatening pace. "I know the real reason why you want him to leave."

The woman held her ground, still resisting the urge to hit him or back away.

"Less worry on your little 'student' if he's off this island. You and your colleagues have taught him everything you can so that he can live on his own out there. That is naïve. The world isn't a safe place for anyone. It's not meant for the weak. You, of all people, should know that."

Her body rigidly tensed and her face hollowed with hidden guilt. Yes, it was low. But really, she had to see the same light as he did.

Wesker could not understand this woman sometimes, the rebelling revolution in her so much different from before.

It was much more fun pushing at her buttons back then...

"You can't always keep protecting him, McLenlan," he sardonically whispered into her ear, delightfully sensing the anger, the tension out of the woman's soured expression. "He needs to face the outside world."

There was nothing the woman could do on the spot as he withdrew. A shaking fist but he knew just as much as she did. A punch to the face was useless. Pointless.

She was his puppet. Everyone on this island was his playthings.

Only she was more interesting and entertaining than most. A rather disobedient fighter in white but still within the thralls of his grasp. However, ever since he brought that _specimen_ to the island...he has noticed how less feeble McLenlan has become. How much of a change she went...

Luckily, he'd be changing that fact very soon.

Wesker wheeled to the door, the tailends of his black trenchcoat trailing after him. "Be sure to keep me informed, McLenlan."

He sneered to himself when he heard the fist slam against the dashboard, causing papers to scatter to the floor.

The woman inside took to her breathing exercises. _Calm down_, she told herself. _That's what he wants. _She couldn't give him the satisfaction this time.

Not now. Not ever.

A heavy sigh left her mouth as she massaged her strained hazel eyes, her thumb and finger on the frame of her glasses she took off. The blonde put them on again and looked back to the monitors, reading the numbers increase slowly with each minute.

By 7 A.M., it'd read 100 percent.

She furrowed her eyebrows with the utmost determination and bolted out of the research lab, caring less to hear the employees cheer on and question her why she wasn't as thrilled as they were. HELIX would be happy. Maybe give a raise. Extend the project to see what possibilities could reveal...

There was no bloody way it'd be that easy and she knew it was bull.

"I see Wesker had paid a visit again."

She had made her way to a security room, stationed for special ops. The head scientist sighed with relief to meet a trusted face.

There were only so many she could find and trust as allies while the rest, too high-risk for too many reasons. The Australian security captain before her was one.

"Have you heard anything from outside?" she asked and he noted from her quick inquiring that he didn't need to pry further how the talk went between her and Wesker.

"Other than the hurricane coming in two days, no." He raised an eyebrow. "But from your look, you suspect something from Wesker."

She casted a glance, spying the watchful camera eye above them. The Aussie gave a fellow nod and the two left to a more comfortable, quiet and less-prodding area.

The one good benefit for a head director and a security officer was knowing all the weak points of the facility.

"You want my men to tail after him?"

She feebly nodded. They knew the danger was very high. "I'm sending them off to get killed for sure."

He sighed. "I already expect all of us to be dead tomorrow or the day after. Might as well get a head start before they do." He thought causally. "Jacobs and Fuller's shift ended five minutes ago. I can radio them up. Jacobs's been meaning to find an excuse to get back at HCF."

He slanted back to the wall, folding his arms with just as much a tired look as his ally.

"So...how much time?"

She hated being the bearer of bad news. "...Twelve hours. If Wesker plans to get it shipped out soon instead of moving it to human tests...I'd say an extra hour or two."

A nod to her acknowledged the predicament. "I can rally up as much men as I can early in the morning. I'll just say it's a scheduled run. Odell won't suspect anything. What 'bout the backup?"

He was given a sad look.

"No word... I really had hoped this person would get help. Even...come for the kiddo." She weakly smirked. "You think I'd learnt my lesson in getting my hopes too high."

The guard didn't join her sad excuse for laughter. "So we're alone on this one?"

"Yeah..."

The Aussie then shrugged his shoulders with no regret. "Well, we've been alone for this long. Might as well finish it with everything we got. I'll keep you posted."

"Likewise."

He started to take off but in half of his stride, he stopped himself. "Iria. There's no turning back once this plan of yours starts. There's gonna be death, no matter how hard you try to stop it. Are you prepared?"

She sighed. He knew her too well. All too well that she'd been taking in all the responsibility to the point of suffocation. The job came with that. What was to happen next, the guard captain could easily predict this strong-headed woman being chained down with more losses that didn't belong to her.

As far as she was concerned...she had already become an angel of death the moment the head director position was tossed onto her lap.

"Kent. We couldn't turn back the moment we stepped on this island. Why should this time make any difference?"

* * *

><p>Claire paced furiously around the insides of the 2-by-4 room. Leon had said that four hours had passed since she was knocked cold but he admitted it was a guess. Their weapons, phones, everything from their pockets had been taken and stashed somewhere in the one-level concrete building.<p>

But wasting their time inside the cells, when she was so close to the truth...

Worse, it was reminding her too much of the past.

"Claire, calm down," Rebecca called out within the same cell, her eyes trailing after her striding partner. Already, she swore she could see crop circles within the wooden floor. "We'll get out of this."

Claire wished she could. But how could she? She was close!

In the next cell, Leon and Vince were a little calmer than the ladies.

"Reckon how many guards indoors?"

"Five," Leon pointed, two on an hour-routine path to check on their prisoners and three not too far away.

Vince frowned and leaned back sluggishly. "I lost count after twenty before we got here. Getting out of here will be tough. That's if we break out of these cells."

Leon examined his surroundings for a third time. "No weak spots I can see. Unless we get the keys, we're not going anywhere."

"So we got no choice but to bunk tonight. Super."

A crackle of an iron door stirred the men up. With a concerned look, Leon got off the dusty bed and to the bars.

"Claire?"

He peered as much as he could but could barely see much of her. He could guess. She had stopped pacing and headed to the bars, hands rattling them.

"How long ago was the last guard, Leon?"

Straight to the point and already planning. But he didn't like this start. "Forty minutes ago."

Quiet. Then she spoke. "I can distract him. Maybe get the keys off him before he notice."

"Claire–"

"It's better than sitting here. And I don't see any keys hanging for us to use a stick and reel them in."

He grumbled quietly. He had expected this behavior. Of course, the woman didn't like staying in one location for too long. She was starting to get ahead of herself all over again.

But Leon had to agree. The longer they stayed here, the more liking they'd be disposed of. Or worse, be used as experiments.

"...Just enough for him to get close to this cell. He'll be too focused on you to see me take him out."

The unsteady sounds of her aggravation settled down. Ok, she was calm. Just a bit.

"Claire, just remember."

She was about to block out her ears. If this was another piece of advice to keep herself focused–

"You're not alone."

That surprised her. The footsteps next door told her Leon wasn't going to go any further, drawing back to his seat.

She softly sighed, banging her forehead at the cold iron.

She did it again. Lost her cool. Claire used every fibre in her to resist laughing at herself.

She wasn't alone. It wasn't like Rockfort Island again.

"Mine, mine, mine."

Her body went cold. Stiff. She had barely heard the new footsteps – first thought was the same guard. Slowly, her wide eyes ambled up to the man with shades, standing in front of her cell with that familiar cruel smile.

"We meet again, Claire Redfield."

Wesker.

The pale man noted her companion inside the cell. Although she couldn't see past the shades, he was surprised to some degree.

Perhaps amused.

"And Rebecca Chambers. Well. This is a reunion indeed."

The petite woman didn't share his enthusiasm. She was more cautious. Shocked to see him.

Seemed like he wouldn't get a welcoming hello from one of his _old_ comrades.

"So sorry for how my men treated you all. Hospitality is not one of their fortes. How long has it been? Eight years?" Wesker then spotted the blond-haired agent. "Ah, Leon Kennedy. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. You were a very troublesome man back in Spain."

"Wesker..." he hissed, gripping tight to the bars.

The spite intrigued Wesker for a little but he still turned his attention back to Claire. "It's truly a surprise to see you here. This island is supposed to be top secret from everyone outside."

He paused with a heavy thought, then lightly leered at his conclusion.

"But I wonder... Was it McLenlan who contacted you?"

A flinch of small amazement flashed on her face. How in the world did he guess that? Yes, he was inhuman but like hell, she'd believe he was omniscient.

The change in her expression, however, pleased Wesker. He was indeed correct.

"How sharp of her. But how... Seems like I'll be spending the night looking over her calls and emails. Still, strange she managed to send help through security." He thought deeply for a moment, trying to come up with possibilities of how the woman did it. However, the thought was quick and Wesker returned to grinning at Claire. "But it doesn't matter."

"What did you do with her, Wesker?"

It was rather an odd question to hear from Leon. And only about this one person. Claire had remembered how much of a small perk Leon gave when she picked out that name from the list earlier.

She thought the same question as Wesker asked.

"Hm. Any relation to her, Kennedy? I don't believe you have any family ties," he stated. "What I did or do with her, it's not of your concern. You should be thinking more of your situation."

It was then that he took notice on the new face.

"And who do we have here? Your rookie student?"

Furrowed eyes, Vince simply crossed his arms, his shoulder leaning against the bars. "And you must be Wesker we've all heard so much about."

Wesker bowed, as if honoured. "Well, my reputation precedes me."

"Sure, top most bioterrorist in the entire globe on our watchlist. 'Course, I imagined someone other than a wannabe man-in-black. Aliens were too much work for you?"

The joke didn't at first bring out irritation but gradually stirred out a soft chortle. Vince straightened up tensely but still kept up his smile once he found himself trapped in a showdown, now face to face with Wesker himself. He couldn't drop his guard down, even if he just signed his own death warrant.

Vince never saw the fist coming.

_POW!_

"OMFP!"

"Vince!" But Leon was too slow once Wesker's free hand gripped his partner by the throat threateningly, the other buried in his stomach.

"You have quite a loud mouth," Wesker mocked softly to his ear. "May telling me your name, agent...?"

Vince coughed desperately, trying to pull the rolled up hand away but it was in vain. The man was mercilessly tough! Pressing deeper into his diaphragm. "Gah... D-Daken..."

Wesker gave a contented nod. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Daken. I do wonder if any surprises out of you will be just as tasteful as I've gotten from your partner here. Guess we'll have to see."

With a shove, the agent tumbled down to the floor, clutching his abdomen as he heavily gasped for air. Leon hurried to his side, checking to see if anything broken.

Nothing. Just had the air knocked out of him.

"Damn it, Wesker. What do you plan to do with us?" Leon demanded.

"Truthfully, none. Your arrival was very unexpected. I didn't have time to make any special arrangements for you." Wesker causally strolled away from the second cell. "I suppose you'll have to stay here for a while longer until I decide...something."

"Why?"

It was another odd question to hear, this time from his old ex-comrade. Rebecca's confused and distressed face didn't faze him the slightest but it was still puzzling to him.

"Why are you doing this, Wesker? We worked together," Rebecca hollered. "You were a STARS captain! Our colleague!"

"Rebecca, Rebecca. You made two mistakes. I _**was**_ part of the STARS. And I was _**not**_ your colleague. I had far more goals than just sticking around and holding hands with all of you. Captain just...didn't cut it for me. Do you understand?"

She stared at him in complete disbelief.

"Just because we were STARS members, doesn't mean we shared anything. The past is the past. Move on."

That silenced Rebecca, her stunned and pained expression giving him satisfaction. It was indeed a desperate attempt to pursue him to see the light and she had only realized it.

Yes, they had been co-workers but just working in the same station didn't mean anything. Chris, Barry, Jill, the lost lives of her Bravo Team, Rebecca knew them all like the back of her hand but the once captain? None.

So her words meant nothing at all.

"That is the same exact face Chris gave me," Wesker said. "Didn't wound me then. And doesn't wound me now."

He then surprisingly snapped his fingers, remembering something and turning his attention to Claire. He folded one arm to his chest, the other hand now cupping his chin.

"Ah, I had been meaning to say something to you, heart. It's…" He spun his unfolded arm about in small circles, as if reeling his mind to peck at a single old memory. "It's something on the tip of my tongue..." Wesker then grinned again, twisted delight behind his shades. "Oh, yes."

He drew closer, every inch telling Claire's nerves to be alert for whatever he was going to pull.

"Steve lives."

That taunt. It gripped at her to the core. But no sense of hope rose from within her. Instead, the shock slowly boiled to rage.

Because the news coming out of this man's mouth was meant as mockery.

"I told you he'd come back alive. Just as I did."

The brunette lunged forward, teeth clenched and piercing eyes. Her attempt to struggle his throat was futile as Wesker had already backed away in a split second.

Too fast for the slow Redfield behind bars.

"Wesker, if you did _**anything**_ to Steve, I swear–"

"How touching. You still cared for a corpse after all these years, heart. But you have nothing to worry about. Well, maybe a little."

The wrath thickened. Yes, definitely like her brother.

"If there's one person you should be blaming, it's McLenlan." The stunned change in her face, it was admirably priceless to Wesker. "I was just the deliveryman. The overseer. She was the executor. The one who made him a worthy specimen. Far better than I had anticipated."

Wesker hummed softly to himself. _Wonder how all this will play out..._

"It's truly ironic. McLenlan contacting you, having worked on good Steve. I wonder what her game is." Wesker's smile grew crueller than usual. "Maybe she wants to ask for your forgiveness. But you probably won't do that. Not to her. Not to me either."

The laughter leaking from his grin was soft but it was spiteful to Claire, Leon and Rebecca. Trapped mice for him to play.

"But then again, forgiveness is underrated."

He had successfully left his mark in the conversation. There was no need to continue. With that triumph in mind, Wesker traded the two watchful guards for his leave through the exit.

"Enjoy the night."

No threats and angry yells were tossed at his back. It would have been wasted anyhow. He continued onwards and out of the little HCF outpost confidently.

Joining him to his right was the captain.

Eager on the spot, hoping to hear a job-well-done from his boss for capturing vermin. The cocky captain with the brightly-dyed undercut, however, held it back in when Wesker didn't speak first.

The wanting was just the captain showing that he was in line. Desperately gaining back the trust he had lost four months ago.

"Should we move them to the facility?" he then asked.

A common question. But to move three familiar faces to the research facility, it made Wesker snicker.

"No, no need, Coté. The last thing I need is them breaking free inside the facility. You have no idea how capable they are. Especially the dear heart and the lion," he pointed. "Leave them here but keep watch. They're awfully tricky little pests."

"If they're that dangerous, then we should dispose of them."

"And lose the fun? Why bother? They're locked up. And I have my best men here. I don't see any problems." Wesker darkly glanced at the captain. "Unless you all prove me wrong."

"No sir," Coté quickly replied. Actually a little too quickly with a hint of nervousness.

"Good." Wesker reached out for the door of the passenger's seat in a readied jeep "Now then, I leave it in your incompetent hands. Everything should be done before the storm. Speaking of which, I must make the preparations for tomorrow."

"And...what would that be?"

Wesker didn't fault him for being a little curious.

"Well...I'm setting up a little game of chess with a _**friend**_."

He was looking forward to tomorrow, when the curtains would rise...

_The war starts tomorrow, McLenlan._

* * *

><p><em>BAM!<em>

"Claire, calm down!" Rebecca shouted after the now lost-tempered woman kicked at the cell door. The sudden noise didn't unnerve the two guards from their glued spots however.

Claire did no such thing to calm down. Instead, she went back to her pacing. This time clasping through her hair in frustration like a bad habit. In her mind, all she could think was that nothing was going her way. _We're locked up. Wesker's here. And tomorrow's the deadline._

The small prison section became quiet. Leon was busy further checking if his partner alright and luckily, Vince was. Just knocked out on the floor that Leon had no choice but to move him to the lower bed.

"Who's Steve?"

It wasn't loud enough for their friends or the guards to hear but just enough to make Claire wheel back stiffly and hastily.

"He's the real reason why you wanted to come, right?" Rebecca asked.

Her insides twisted and shoulders sunk down. Claire felt guilty. "Becs, I-"

Rebecca raised a hand to stop her and sat down, not at all offended. She knew Claire all too well, to the point when Claire got causal, emotional or relaxed, she'd call her Becs.

"I get it... I also had someone I had hoped to meet one day."

The words eased Claire's anger down and eventually, she moved closer to sit beside for this girl talk.

"Did you ever-"

"Look for him? No." Rebecca shook her head. "Actually, if I did, I'd probably arrest him on the spot instead." She chuckled lightly, diving into her old memories for a moment. "So...what was this Steve like?"

A smile flashed at the remembrance, then strangely with a roll of the eyes. "Pretty ignorant at first. Arrogant. Bigmouthed. Always runs into everything before he thinks."

Ok, Rebecca didn't expect those as answers. But somehow, she could relate.

"But...he had his moments. Seemed to know when to drop in and save the day for me."

A frown consumed the smile on Rebecca's puzzled face. "Had?"

Claire's expression followed suit, but much sadder. "He... He didn't make it..."

The one last thing she needed was pity from Rebecca but it couldn't be helped. However, Claire didn't go on into more details and with that, she respected her in silence.

How it happened, Claire remembered it very clearly.

***/*/*/***

_In that Antarctica Base, she had found the redhead slumped in a chair, a huge axe restricting his chest. She watched in vain as Steve's body tremble and twist. A large, monstrous version of her friend, his mind lost to the virus and the one who gave him that infection by needle. She had run away to stay alive from him, screaming and wielding that axe at her._

_Tentacles burst out from the ground and caught her, preparing her to be skibob for the pawn._

_But at the moment the axe held up high, there was a glimpse of humanity in those red eyes._

_The axe swayed down but to one of the tentacles, freeing her._

_In retaliation, the tentacles stabbed through Steve. _

_Tears fell. She screamed out his name and hurried to his side, his horrific form deflating back to his human self._

_At near death, he gazed up to her in a trance. He gladly smiled._

"_I...I love you..."_

_***/*/*/***_

The stinginess of those final words wet her eyes. She swallowed, mentally doing everything she could to keep her emotions in control.

"He said...he was sorry that he couldn't keep his promise...and that...he loved me..."

The quiet seconds droned on mercilessly. On the seat they shared, Rebecca could see how much the death of another got to her. Words didn't need to describe it. Rebecca had experienced that too.

"You must think I'm horrible now." Claire tried to fight the tears with a laugh but that failed horribly. She quickly wiped her eyes before the water could fall. "I didn't come here to help these people. I... I just–"

"Claire, you told me you sent the email to TerraSave. You asked me to help you rescue them. Why would I think you only came for one person?"

"Yes, but–"

Rebecca shook her head, stopping her again. "I don't see why you can't save everyone. Including Steve."

Claire wasn't convinced.

"Wesker said he is alive."

She sniffed out a laugh. "Yeah, but as what? Human? Rebecca... Steve was infected with a virus when he died. And Wesker..."

The thought of Steve coming back as that giant mutated form again dreaded her. If that was to happen again...

"But he's alive. And if he needs rescuing, then we'll do that. If he needs a cure, we'll find it. Claire, Leon is right. You aren't alone on this one."

"Why are you always so optimistic, Becs?"

Rebecca simply shrugged her shoulders. "I just am."

The remark managed to bring back Claire's smile. That was good.

"Do you love him?"

She didn't reply straight away. It had caught her off guard but then, Claire thought for a moment. Really for a moment.

But came up with no answer.

"I...I don't know... I cared for him. I still do. But..."

It had been so long. Did she love him? Maybe, back then in that short moment. She had moved on. She was prepared to search for a dead body to bury. Prepared that he wouldn't come back.

And now this...

"All I want is to get him back," Claire admitted truthfully.

"...Well, you'll just have to find out when you meet him, won't you?" Rebecca said with her cheery smile. She leapt off the seat and patted the dust off her bottom.

"Becs... About what Wesker said about Iria... Do you think she had something to do with Steve?" she asked difficultly. "She was the one who sent me all those documents. And about the virus."

That surprised Rebecca. "But Leon said–"

"Anónimo was just the messenger."

Claire watched the petite woman think for a moment. She knew she had sounded horrible, talking about one of Rebecca's idols as if McLenlan was a villain.

"...There was something my professor told me about Carme. She and her sister always had a habit of reciting quotes. And he told me this when I messed up one of my assignments. 'May you have the hindsight to know where you've been, the foresight to know where you're going and the insight to know when you've gone too far'."

Claire's eyebrows rose. Interesting, long quote.

"He thought the quotes were their way of guiding themselves. I think he was right," Rebecca explained. "I don't know if Iria did or didn't do anything to Steve... But I don't believe she's a bad person."

It rose a good point, making Claire recall something recent.

A quote, huh?

'_There is not a wise man without fault. We all have got our weaknesses.'_

A habit of reciting quotes. Sounded like the shared habit she had with Chris. Well, not really like rushing into the cause like heroes, head in the game. Oh, the days they pretended to be like the comic book superheroes when they were kids...

Claire looked up to the small window above her as Rebecca scowled at the guards, no doubt already planning a way out silently.

The sky was pitch black but much clearer than the cloudy nights in Weston. Stars were beautifully out.

It was a pleasant night to ponder. Sure, they were in jail. But as for now, all they could do was wait for an opportunity. And hopefully soon.

Weaknesses... She thought back to the quote and she had to agree. Lately, she had been showing her weak side, getting emotional when she shouldn't.

Inhaled. Exhaled. No more.

Fuelled with determination, Claire stood up.

There was no way she was stopping here.

* * *

><p><em>31 May 2006, 11:27 A.M.<em>

_Bolívar_ _Outpost, Cape Inacio_

The opportunity hadn't come yet but the morning had certainly roused up. At dawn break, most of the HCF guards outside had dispersed off on jeeps. Even, the captain was gone. As far as Claire could see, they headed off to one direction – north, south, east, west? She wasn't sure, if she didn't know where the outpost was located.

That didn't mean the cells were left unattended.

Vince had woken up sometimes ago, still having a little difficulty breathing but overall, still good enough to fight and eager to break out.

The morning commotion had gotten their interest.

"Rebecca, you hear anything?" Leon asked.

She squeezed as much as she could through the bars, lending her ear out to overhear the talk outside. The ladies' cell was the nearest to the exit, next door probably being a common room or a place of operation.

"Something about an incident. They're sending more guys over to take care of it." She turned back to Claire worriedly. "It sounds like a war out there."

Claire bit hard on her lip. "It's starting." Pushing away any dreadful ideas of innocents getting killed or infected, she hurried to the door, hands on bars. "We got to get out of here."

"The sooner, the better. We've overstayed our welcome." Vince hissed, slapping his neck and glancing down to see a now squashed mess of wings and goo. "Stupid mosquitoes. Don't suppose you girls have some hairpin to picklock our cells?"

"UGH!"

"What was that?" Rebecca uttered, hearing the dying sound from afar. The four tensed in their cells. Waiting for the guards to come for the strange noise.

No guards did. Instead, coming into the picture were two new faces – one Caucasian and one Indian. In body armor and uniforms but not as the same as HCF. Their logos simply said "security", along with the HELIX's symbol. What was more, their uniforms were very dark blue.

"Who are you?"

The Indian, carrying a set of keys, rushed over to the girls' cell. His partner guarded the entrance, hand ready on the gun.

"No time to explain. We're here to help."

_Bzzt!_ "_Fuller, come in!_" The call from a walkie-talkie on the second man's chest distracted all of them, even the Indian just about to swing the door open. The officer, Fuller, reached for the device and clicked the button.

"Read you. We got the prisoners."

Shots fired from the other end. Fuller glimpsed back to his partner with fright.

"Williams!"

"_Infected loose! I repeat! Infected loose! You got to get to the South-East underpass pronto! Shut off the exit before they have a chance of getting out!_"

"Roger that. We'll–"

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Before Claire's wide eyes, blood projected backwards from three holes in the man's body, dropping dead.

"Fuller!" The Indian wheeled around but by the time he raised his gun, anything not protected by his body armor was filled with iron.

_No!_

With a dash, Claire swung out and swiped for the gun. Her appearance was a surprise to the guard down the hall and before he had a chance to fire, she took him down with a headshot.

_BANG!_

"Hang on!"

She turned back to see Rebecca on the floor, tending to the garrotting officer. He had more bullets than his friend, but was barely clinging to life.

Claire spotted the keys and quickly pitched them to Leon, who caught them easily. "I'll get an aid kit–"

"Gah-n-no..." The Indian's broken words stopped her from leaving. "T-Too late for me... Y-You...have to go... The facility... Everyone's..."

"Don't talk! You're going to be fine!" Rebecca desperately looked at Claire. "Get the first aid kit! Now!"

A gurgle, both laughter and blood filled, escaped from the Indian's mouth. The smile, however, faded. "I-If you meet C-captain W-Williams... T-Tell him...Jacobs and F-Fuller didn't make it."

"No!" Rebecca snapped, still keeping pressure on the bleeding wounds. "Don't say that."

Jacobs ignored her plead. Or maybe he couldn't hear anymore.

"H-He'll...know what to do..."

One arm, having clutched to Rebecca for support, fell. The body went limp in her arms. Cold. Dead eyes staring into the ceiling.

Their rescuers were gone.

"No... No!"

It was Bravo team all over again.

She quickly laid Jacobs down and began pushing his chest in a rhythm with CPR.

"Rebecca," Leon called out, a hand on her shoulder. The two men had already gotten out. "He's gone."

After the twenty-second push, Rebecca reluctantly stopped.

Two people, even if they knew nothing of, were dead because of them.

The thought seized Claire at her heart.

***/*/*/***

_The Iraqi desert sun. The thick smell of gunpowder and iron. The shouts of English and Arabic._

_The shade of red stained on sand._

_Chaos._

_But only one thing was on her mind._

_The blood-soaked body of an olive-skinned woman in her arms. _

_A TerraSave member._

"_Hang hold, Yasmin! We'll get you out of here! Just hang hold!"_

_It was a frantic attempt. She had tried to drag her friend away from the battlefield. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing a stone home of a family not too far away but the journey seemed too long._

"_C-Claire..."_

_She turned back to her dying friend. _

"_I-I'm sorry..."_

_***/*/*/***_

"Claire? Claire." The loud call snapped her out of her trance of fresh memories. She turned to Leon, the caller, who stared at her with concern. "You ok?"

"Yeah... It's nothing."

It wasn't nothing. The pale face told him otherwise but he didn't press on.

"_Fuller, Come in._"

Hearing a beep sound, Leon kneeled down to one of the dead bodies and shuffled out the walkie-talkie. "Hello?"

"_Who is this?_" the Australian voice demanded. "_Where's Fuller?_"

He glanced down to the officers with a repentant face. "I'm sorry... They didn't make it."

"_Shit...Tell me you got the bastards._"

"Yeah," Claire said. "What's going on?"

The sound of gunshots, however, could be heard.

"Hello! Can you hear us?" Leon yelled.

"_You're at Bolívar Outpost. Fuller should have a map._" With that in mind, Claire patted into the pockets and pulled out a piece of paper, circles and names marked in red. "_Head back to town._"

"What?" she uttered.

"From the sound of things, there's trouble. We can help."

"_It's a death trap here_._ We can't let anyone or anything in or out!_"

"I don't like the sound of that," Vince admitted.

"Leon." Claire was already examining the map in her hand, trailing a finger from the outpost location to a circle all to the left, where a lagoon was. "The facility isn't that far. We can get there."

"_Negative!_" the voice spoke. "_If you're talking about the actual place, it's bloody underwater. Only access is the main entrance and eight underpasses. And we're trying to close them off!_"

"There!" Claire pointed at a much closer spot to the outpost. "This has to be that underpass you mentioned."

The sound of struggle was heard but was shortened with a punch. "_Are you crazy! ? I just said it's a bloody death trap! HCF has one foot here and is going to put the other on the town. All my men are split up everything, trying to stop them while the rest of us are trapped, trying to contain these freaks of nature from getting out!_"

From all that, the four could guessed. Whatever was happening at the facility, HCF had entered there to take control. Meaning lives inside was getting lost, with freaks of nature loose – no doubt a.k.a. infected specimens.

"_You got this chance because of those two. Don't make their deaths be in vain._"

Leon glanced around to his teammates before turning back to the walkie-talkie.

"How bad is it in town?"

"_Fights are a mile from town. They're pushing HCF as much as they can and telling up civilians to stay indoors._"

"What about the facility?"

"_Flamin' hell! I just said–_"

"Which one's more important?" he demanded. "Tell us! Which is a higher priority?"

"_...The facility. If any of these monsters get out and infect the population, then it's over._"

"Alright. We're heading there. We're the closest you got, right now."

"_Bunch of twits... Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you,_" the voice groaned. "_If you're coming, might as well get your name._"

"Special Agent Leon Kennedy," he introduced.

"_Officer Kent Williams. One more thing._"

"Yeah?"

"_Kill as many HCF wankers as you can._"

The call ended, never giving him a chance to say an answer. But looking down at their dead saviors, Leon was sure to give their common foe a one-two.

"Will do."

During the time of the call, Rebecca had closed the dead men's eyes humbly before covering them with blankets. A means of respecting the dead.

Vince reached out a hand to Rebecca. "Come on. Let's give them a thing or two."

Wiping away the tears, which only added a red smear onto her face, Rebecca took his hand and was helped up. She was ready.

All four darted from the cells. Thanks to Fuller and Jacobs, they had taken care of the remaining guards in the building.

"Here." They found their possessions on a table. Rebecca was the first to reach, taking and passing handguns to her teammates before gathering her med pack.

Once everyone was set, Leon gave the order. "Let's move."

"Hold it right there!"

A HCF soldier circled around the corner, assault rifle up.

Vince was faster and closer. Out of the blues, he did the same trick he did to Rebecca in El Delmor. Swiftly pulled the rifle out of the soldier's hands but this time, locked the rifle around his neck.

"Stop him!" came out another shout.

_BANG! BANG!_

Shots were fired but Vince veered round, using his captive as a shield. The man took all the bullets, none of them drilling through the back and into Vince himself. Leon and the girls swung out their guns and leapt forth, firing at three more HCF men dead.

"WHOA!"

The holler made the trio look back to suddenly see Vince be grabbed from the front by his supposedly-dead hostage and flung over.

"Vince!" Leon yelled.

Vince stared horrified at the soldier. How? He was shot by his own comrades. One at the bulletproof vest and two at his openings. He had thought the HCF soldier had died in his arms and dropped his guard down.

Smoke sizzled out of the bleeding bullet holes. Up close on the ground, Vince had only noticed. The uncanny glowing red eyes staring back at him as the man restrained him with abnormal strength. Still breathing. Still very much alive and ready to kill him.

_BANG!_

A headshot to the back from Leon and the HCF soldier fell down.

"Watch out!" Vince gagged, noting the three bodies ahead rising up and taking aim again.

Everyone fell into cover. The outpost was filled with flying 7.62 AK and 9mm rounds.

"Come on out, your fucking bastards!" one of the soldiers yelled with vengeance for his death.

"Dammit! It's not going to be easy," Claire uttered.

"It never is," Leon added and flew out of his cover.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

The foursome made their way towards the main exit once they cleared out the way, Vince battle-ramming the front door open with his shoulder. The heat of the tropical sun immediately greeted them in the empty dirt lot.

"We walk or drive?" Rebecca asked, pointing at a few lone vehicles.

"Prisoners are escaping!"

"We shoot our way through," Leon replied as a handful of soldiers appeared.

* * *

><p>"This is the place," Claire said, looking up from both the electronic and paper maps.<p>

It was a seven-minute rush, making their way through the thick jungle and firing down HCF soldiers left and right. The team found themselves into a clearing, consisting of a small polished-white concrete building fenced up with watchtowers.

Only, it was deserted. No HCF guards on post.

"Doesn't look like an underpass."

The concrete building was like the outpost – one floor. From first impressions, however, it looked like a standard facility, protected with ID card scanners.

And they were right. With an elbow into the glass panel, Leon opened the door and they walked to see rooms filed with scientific equipment, charts and vials.

"This is where the virus's being developed?" Vince asked, curious to see how under-protected the building was in keeping a dangerous infection from escaping.

Rebecca neared to one table in one room, spotting a few papers laid out next to a row of potted plants.

"No. These documents are about the island plants..." She skimmed further. "Research on medicinal properties and all but no virus."

"Something tells me this lab is just a cover-up from the real deal," Claire pointed.

"Here's something... 'Paralytic agent update. Perfected substance from Black Curare plant to quickly slow down specimens in case of emergency. Risk of asphyxiation and neurotoxin poisoning still problematic if large doses but the drug has been useful to save specimens from being eliminated after escape. We cannot afford to switch to another alternative drug.'" The more Rebecca read the documents, the more her interest sparked that she searched about the table.

"So it's both for show and for work," Vince said.

"Here!" The petite held out a light tranquilizer gun and loaded the darts in.

"Should you be taking that stuff? We don't know this stuff."

"You don't but I do. I had been trying to work on effective paralytic drugs on the undead for a while now."

"Hey, over here."

They left the laboratory to find Leon at the end of a hall, a set of stairs going down through the floor.

Look." Leon pointed to a sign with bold red letters and an arrow pointing to the opposite. "Emergency Exit."

Slowly, they descended downstairs into the darkness. For a while, they had to rely on their flashlights to make their way.

Claire grasped her handgun tighter. "Do you hear that?"

Sobbing.

"Yeah," Leon replied.

"This is looking a lot like the start of a horror movie," Vince admitted, feeling shivers down his spine.

"Ugh. Kind of wish you didn't say that," Rebecca grumbled. "Now I'm reminded of that Japanese ghost movie with the camera..."

They went onwards until they came across a heavy-duty automated door ajar and red flashing light streaming out its gap.

They circled around the door and Leon swung a finger as a hushed signal. The two men used their strength to push it open and all charged in slowly.

Inside what seemed like a section into a seemingly-endless tunnel was a man with a white coat on his knees. At both his sides lied three dead corpses as he wept with another in his arms. Emergency red light spun above them, no doubt the news giver of a passing disaster.

"What happened here?" Claire got no answer.

"Sir?"

The stranger did not look back and continued crying softly. Moreover, his ears and sides of his head had been scratched many times. Did he kill these people?

"Nicole... Nicole..." he sobbed.

The behavior was normal, not that of a zombie – which sluggish and senselessly ravenous for human meat. Slowly, they drew closer.

"You are alive... After all these years... I thought you were dead..."

"Sir?" Leon tried again.

"She's there... She's right there..." The man madly pointed at thin air as if the person of his interest was standing before him. The spaces between his words began to lengthen. "...Don't you see her?"

Slowly, every second rising the hair off the team's necks, the man turned...

...and stared at them with complete black eyes, nearly sunken into his face. Pulsating purple veins across his pale non-deteriorating face.

And in his mouth was chewed flesh, torn from the neck of his fallen friend.

"Oh my god," Rebecca uttered with wide eyes.

Zombies, she remembered how they looked. So did Claire and Leon. The walking undead with skin rotting, glass eyes and dried blood from their eaten victims.

The person before them looked like he was between alive and dead.

Zombie didn't quite catch it. It was more like a hungry ghost.

The man glared angrily at them and stood up, his hands reaching for his ears with irritation. Scratching at them. Tearing at them.

"Who are you...?" he demanded, grabbing for a baton from the floor. With a press of a button, the stick electrified. "Stop making those sounds! Who are you! ?"

"Stop," Leon warned, holding his gun up. "I said stop!"

It was as if normal consciousness was moving the man but his actions were nothing human. His walk, though tired, was nothing like the clumsy limping of a walker.

"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT THAT NOISE! AAAARGH!" He then sprinted towards them with a rose of the stun baton.

"STOP!"

_BANG!_

The man's head flung back with a bullet pierced through and his body dropped back. Leon had no choice. He was armed, about to attack, his mind deranged.

"What was that? Is this what a zombie is?" Vince could barely grasp what he saw.

"Something's different. He...he acted human," Rebecca pointed.

"Yeah, and I've seen this before. Back in Spain," Leon explained. "A village was infected with a parasite. They acted almost normal and fine but they were just hosts–"

A choke startled them back to the fallen man.

Eyes widened at the scene on the floor.

The body convulsed violently as if it was burning from the inside. Skin crumpled off like peeled off paint and fell like ash, cracking away to reveal hideous black and red muscles, from the head down to the toes. Now the dead man looked nothing but a manifested skeletal silhouette of his former self.

Black eyes turned blazing bloodshot and teeth bore as he rose back up. A low growl misted out of him.

Now that was a zombie. Sort of.

"Is this anything like what happened in Spain?" Vince choked.

Leon didn't answer. His eyes were huge from shock.

Nothing from his past prepared him for the horror show before him. This was nothing like the villagers infected with the plagas.

More groans echoed as the rest of the bodies lifted themselves up. To their surprise, the corpses managed to muffle out broken ghastly words as they stared at their visitors with confused, mad and fearful faces. As if they were more afraid of the living than the other way around. Some struggled, clutching shut their ears for a moment.

Like "You're not him" or "her", "Who are you?", "Stop the sound," and most of all...

"I'll kill you."

"Shoot them!"

They didn't need to be told twice by Claire. They let the bullets fly.

The sound of fire brought more towards them from the tunnel. Few fell and stayed dead. Some went through the transformation of darkening and arose a second time. The third time those shadows fell, their forms dissolved away into dust.

"Vince! Lock the door behind us! We can't let them out!"

"Got it!" The second agent hurried back to the heavy duty door. Noticing a console nearby, he hopped over and slammed on the button.

"Unable to close underpass door. Facility power level at minimum. Please manually close door." A mechanical voice of a woman echoed within the section.

"What! ? You got to be kidding me!"

Claire rushed over to the door, leaving the two to continue the battle. "What are you waiting for! ? Come on and help me!"

Vince joined the brunette to the door and together, they hurled it close. It took a while, the door feeling like a ton but they managed it. On the door were a wheel and extra knobs, their color and size looking significant important. The agent gave it a spin and hit the buttons, hearing triple locks click and air vacuuming out.

Above them, a light turned green.

"Manual lock engaged," the voice from above spoke.

"Well, Claire," Leon droned. "There's no turning back."

"Wasn't planning on it."

* * *

><p><strong>Enemy Data<strong>

**HCF Soldier**

**Based:** Human

**Created via:** t-virus infection

HCF, also known as the Hive/Host Capture Force, Soldiers are highly trained soldiers under the direction of Wesker and infected with previous viruses Wesker had collected and used on himself, mainly the t-virus. They are quite similar to Wesker but not at his level, having superhuman strength and sharp senses. HCF Soldiers are human in body armour at first glance – the only dead giveaway is their red eyes. They are, however, more resilient than a normal zombie and take longer to kill. Non-helmet soldiers are more likely to be easily killed with a headshot. They are skilled in using all sorts of firearms and hand combat, having complete awareness and control over their viruses to fight.

Upon death, they do not show signs of mutation...yet.

Originally, the HCF was established to locate and retrieve newly discovered viruses and hosts under Albert Wesker during the late 1990s. Recently, a portion of the private military is stationed in Cape Inacio while the rest has dispersed into working in TRICELL, still under Wesker's command. To the public of Cape Inacio, they serve to help civilians from venturing or getting lost too close to the east as half of the island is well-known to be very dangerous. In actual fact, the HCF are to ensure that anyone not an employer or employee is to discover the Theseus Research Facility and the secrets inside.

*****/*/*/*****

**Shade**

**Based:** Human

**Date of creation:** 2006

**Types:** Various, Darkened

**Purpose:** Infection

Shades are creatures created from humans infected with the Kronos virus and serve as one of the primary enemies in Resident Evil: CODE Kronos.

In appearance, Shades are mostly human except for their blackened eyes and discolored skin tones with visible purple veins. They behave and look almost like humans, being able to talk and move. However, they are unable to perceive normally, mistaking nothing as something or something as a threat. If such a threat, Shades will become hostile and attack, more out of fear than mindlessness. They will use melee weapons and firearms if threatened and are in some sense, fully aware. Shades come in different looks: scientists, officers, staff, townsfolk, etc.

Shades in this primary form are between life and dead but have already lost their sense of morality, control of purposeful behaviors and decision making. This indicates that their sense of perception is warped by the virus. Because of these certain losses in the brain, they also have resorted to cannibalism like common zombies and without any awareness they are cannibalizing. This is more likely to spread the disease and/or use the consumed tissue to regenerate decaying tissue. There are two common things about Shades. One is that they see a hallucination, presumably a dead loved one. The other is hearing a certain "sound" that only they individually can hear, which gives the possibility of a hive mind taking control over them. They show irritable behavior from the sound, desperately trying to block it out but in vain. Shades have a tendency to claw at the sides of their heads and ears.

A second version of Shade is called a Darkened. Shades have a dangerous chance of being reanimated and undergoing a spontaneous mutation after being killed. Their skin 'cracks' off to reveal black and red tissue underneath, making them look like walking shadows. They lose complete control and consciousness at this point, no longer talking or being absolutely aware like their counterparts. They are certainly not weaker and unintelligent, despite their looks. A Darkened, combined with a level of intelligence or being under the influence of a hive mind, can worsen a situation. They are more dangerous in the dark and the only indication of their presence is their glowing red eyes. If killed again, a Darkened does not reanimate again.

The name, shade, is common in old literature and poetry, where it is the spirit or ghost of a dead person residing in the Greek underworld. In Hades' underworld, the souls of the dead still existed but were insubstantial and they flitted around the underworld with no sense of purpose. Their lives in the underworld were very neutral and inactive as compared to their lively days. The dead were considered irritable and unpleasant. They grew angry only if they felt a hostile presence near their graves.

The image of an underworld where the dead live in shadow is common to the Ancient Near East, in Biblical Hebrew expressed by the term _tsalmaveth_, literally "death-shadow".

* * *

><p><strong>Game Objections:<strong>

-Fight HCF hostiles.

-Go to the Underpass.

* * *

><p>Vickie: And now we have our first two types of enemies. :D What you think of Shades? The description for the Darkeneds was also partly inspired by Persona series. C:<p>

It took some work on my enemies, based on the virus idea I created. I actually didn't plan on exploring into Greek mythology but ended up discovering shades and the dead in the underworld in the wiki. After that, I thought of using Greek mythology as my base for my enemies so it's kinda like going back to the days of Umbrella naming their specimens with Greek myth names. Lol. Yeah, it feels overused but I can't think of any other to use.

Could have used Norse mythology but…hm. Not too sure.

Anyway, we have one more chapter left of this first game chapter (I hope). What happens next the further they go in? And what is this chess game Wesker plans? Who knows. Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. :P Throw out your theories how you think this will unfold.

I will say, this chapter has been the least-troubling (I didn't have ANY PROBLEMS with holes inbetween or pacing out) and the most fun to write. :D Also the parts from CODE Veronica, I've written them in a way they refer to both the PS2 version and Darksides Chronicles. So, whichever your pick.

I've got a question btw. If you guys read above, ash-blond-haired Latina, Latina is one I'm not too sure. One character is actually part Spanish (Galician) and part Irish sooo does Latina count for this mix? I mean I myself get Eurasian (cuz I am one) as being Asian and Caucasian. Just the above mix, I'm not too sure. TELL ME IF I AM WRONG OR RIGHT.

I also plan to make a second fanfic that is relation to this one. A fanfic consisting of documents that give more backstories about CODE Kronos. It's like how you, as players, go collect documents and read them in your spare time. Ahhh, the old days of Resident Evil. If you guys would like that, I'll try to get it up. For each chapter I've written, I'll write a certain number of documents you would pick up.

Hope you all enjoy this chapter and I'd like to greatly thank those who recently favored and fav alerted this story. :D Please read and review and look forward to the next chapter!

Also threw in a reference. Guess which horror game I wrote about. :P


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